Patient
by Stephxy
Summary: Summary: Castle receives uncertain news from his doctor, and Kate helps him through the earliest part of the journey. This is an AU story with minor spoilers, if any. Takes place roughly between Undead Again and Always. More story info in notes before story. Rating may change as the story goes on. This one is also going to get dark at times. "It is always darkest before the dawn"
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Patient**

**CHAPTER 1**

**Summary: Castle receives uncertain news from his doctor, and Kate helps him through the earliest part of the journey. This is an AU story with nothing but the most minor of spoilers, if any. Begins roughly between _Undead Again_ and _Always_, at least as far as the dynamic of Rick and Kate's relationship at that point. (i.e.: they aren't in one, but they both want to be. They are trying to push walls and lies and obsessions out of the way…) **

**Possibly M in the future. This _will _be Caskett, but you can pretty much pretend the _Always _ending never happened… I know… BLASPHEMY!**

**Author's Notes: Since the 12th Precinct no longer physically exists, I used the address of the 9th Precinct, which has been used for exterior shots of the 12th. The address used for the sake of this story is 321 East 5th St. between 2nd Ave. and 1st Ave.**

**I have created a physician for Castle. Dr. Dean Edward's is an original character and even though it shouldn't contradict anything from the show regarding Castle's general medical practitioner, I felt better creating a character to do what I wanted in this story.**

**My plan is for this to be a multi-chapter story. I absolutely want to complete it, but as we all know- reviews motivate. Thank you for taking the time to favorite, save, or review this story. Thank you to anyone who has read and enjoyed my previous stories as well. Your feedback is critical.**

****I just want to come out and say that this is NOT, nor will it become a "character death" story. I want to explore the nature of the illness side by side with the way relationships grow and change. So please don''t be afraid to read because you are imagining a death. That is just not something I am trying to translate with this story. Thanks for reading.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own nor am I affiliated with Castle, ABC, Disney or related parties.**

He left the 12th early that day, saying quick goodbyes' as he walked towards her desk. He smiled at her, expecting to be accused of abandoning the paperwork she was stuck doing on an off day. Instead she smiled back, holding his gaze for that instant too long. The moment during which epics are told and lives are changed. She didn't look away as she said "Tomorrow?" adding an increase in pitch at the end of the word, which would normally indicate that a question was being asked. Really, though, it was a statement. A commitment. He responded with the same word, "Tomorrow." Spoken softly and evenly. Their eyes held onto one another, flowing like vernal pools of blues and greens and browns before he cast his downward. He smiled briefly, again, before slinging his coat across his arm and walking towards the elevator. She watched him, even after the elevator doors had closed.

It was a beautiful day. One of those perfect New York afternoons with the bluest skies and the whitest, fluffiest clouds. It was warm, but not humid, and the breeze was amazing. The proximity of the buildings often created wind tunnels, and Castle loved how they take your breath away, making you feel almost as if you could flying. He decided against taking his car. Dr. Edwards' office was just a few blocks up on 6th, and the walk would do him good.

He had been a patient of Dr. Dean Edwards' for years, and Rick trusted him implicitly. The man had helped find the perfect pediatrician for Alexis, and had always offered more than the quick once-over that most doctors can barely find the time to give these days. They were on a first name basis, and Dean had become a confidant as much as a physician.

He had seen Dr. Edwards earlier in the week. He had a few spells of shortness of breath, and had just felt generally weak. Rick was really bad about keeping up with the standard, once-a-year appointments, and as usual, it was Alexis who had convinced him to go. He kept telling her that it was just a bug, just "something going around", but when the day came, it was Alexis who reminded him, pulling jeans and a royal blue "Goonies Forever" t-shirt from his closet and throwing them at him.

At Dean's office, Castle made small talk with the receptionists and the nurses, all of whom knew him by name, all very clearly charmed by him. When Dr. Edwards had opened the door to the exam room after a small knock, he greeted Castle with a strong, informal and friendly handshake. As he performed routine exams and tests on Castle, listening to his breathing and feeling his chest and arms, he asked about Alexis, his mother, his writing, his work at the 12th. He finished quickly before writing a quick order for a blood draw. All ordinary, all typical, all routine.

As Castle crossed over to 6th, on the way to this unexpected second visit, he began to feel anxious. He thought more about it, about the reason for this return visit, and was surprised at himself that he hadn't asked when the doctor had called. He was a writer. He _always _asked for more information. He quickened his pace as he made his way to the glass paned office building that housed Dean Edwards' practice. He entered, bypassing the elevators to make his way directly to the stairs. He took them two at a time, winded and dizzy by the time he made it to the 3rd floor. He stopped at the landing to catch his breath, to wait for the world to stop spinning. He grasped at his burning, tightening chest as he stabilized himself on the railing next to the door. He blinked rapidly, waiting for his vision to return to normal, waiting for the burning to stop.

Castle was terrified. It was by far the worst episode he had experienced as of yet. As it wound slowly out of his body, giving him back his breath, his vision slowly improved. For the first time, he felt like perhaps Alexis had been right, that perhaps something could be wrong. Perhaps getting checked out was not such a bad idea. He was in his 40's, but he liked to think that he was in reasonable shape. His eating habits could be better, but he stayed away from unhealthy vices, for the most part. Still, he was just beginning to cross the precipice after which the risk for health problems increases, so getting a handle on things now felt like the smartest thing to do.

After checking in with Darla, the long-time receptionist, Castle noticed that he was alone in the waiting room. It was a rarity he almost never saw, especially in the afternoon on a weekday. He hadn't been seated long enough to even open a magazine when Dr. Edwards himself opened the door to the waiting area, waving him back. Castle followed Dean to the examination room he had been in last week, but things felt different. Normally the waiting room was packed, and a nurse came and got him for the doctor, and he waited several minutes for the doctor to come to the room. None of it felt right, and it scared him.

As Castle sat with his legs hanging over the exam table, Dean wheeled his stool towards him. He looked up at Castle and gave him a sad, knowing smile. "Please, Dean. Tell me," Rick begged. He didn't know what it was, but his friend was talking and behaving in a way that didn't reassure him. Coupled with the experience he had just had on the stairs, and his symptoms from the last few weeks, he was afraid.

Dean sighed. "We don't know exactly what it is, Rick." He revealed finally. "We need to run some more tests, but I'm just going to be straight with you." Rick and Dean sighed simultaneously, drawing strength from somewhere in the room, the world, the ether.

Dean continued. "Like I said, Rick, more tests need to be done. It could be a lot of different things. Chances are-".

Castle cut him off. He didn't want to be given the textbook medical spiel, not by his friend, anyway. "Dean, please. Just tell me." He pleaded.

Dean looked down at the brown tiled floor. It was practically a relic of a time when such ugly colors and patterns were acceptable. He took in a hearty breath of air before looking back up at Castle.

"Rick," he began. "Rick, your white blood cell count is very low. It's too low."

"So what does that mean?" begged Rick, his voice raising.

"It could mean cancer, Rick. It could be something else, or it could be nothing, but I need to run some more comprehensive blood tests as well as send you for a CT-Scan before you leave today."

Castle didn't realize that he had started holding his breath until he felt himself begin to choke. His hands shook and he wanted to _run._ Usually not one to directly avoid uncomfortable situations, for a second he understood what it was like for Beckett, to feel the intense, uncontrollable drive to run in the opposite direction, to escape. It felt so much worse to stay put, to remain sitting in this awful reality playing out before him.

Dean could sense, hell, he could _see_ what Rick was going through. This was the worst part of the job; telling people that their worst fears were coming true. It was especially difficult when it involved delivering the news to a friend. He combed his fingers through his hair as he searched for the impossible words to say next.

"Rick, if it _is_ cancer, we will treat it, but we don't know anything yet. You only appear mildly, maybe occasionally moderately symptomatic, but I want to move quickly on this." Dr. Edwards said in the most reassuring of tones. It was a voice he had perfected over years of giving both patients and families the worst news of their lives.

Castle couldn't speak, although he wondered if the episode he had just experienced in the stairwell would qualify as "mild" or "moderate". The uncertainty of it all made things worse. He trembled and tried to push back the tears that threatened to cascade down his face. In the awkward silence that follows a potential death sentence, Rick wished that there was a way to know the ultimate, genuine collection of facts. He hated these word games and half-truths. Listening to phrases like "Maybe it's nothing" in the same sentence as "It might kill you" felt like a cruel joke. He would have much rather have just heard "Rick, you have cancer" than "Rick, you _may _have cancer, but we need to poke and prod at you a bit before we can give you more of a definitive answer."

Dr. Edwards broke the silence, repeating himself by insisting that they 'move quickly'. What the hell did that mean, anyway?

"I'd like to send you down now for the additional blood work and the CAT scan, so that we can get some answers and move forward accordingly."

Rick nodded his head, unable to verbalize the millions of thoughts that were swimming around each other in his mind. Dean wrote up orders for the blood work and procedures and gave him verbal directions to the lab before looking him squarely in the face. "I'll call you as soon as I know anything," he said simply before sending him on his way. More vagueness. Castle hated it.

The lab was nearly empty, as if the world decided to stay well that day, to stay out of hospitals and waiting rooms and doctor's offices. He apparently hadn't got the memo. The lab had a sterile smell to it, like bleach and rubbing alcohol. It smelled clean and sanitary. It smelled like sickness.

"Richard Castle?"… He was pulled out of his shocked, quiet numbness by the phlebotomist calling his name. He got up slowly, following her into a clinical area with plastic chairs and sinks, red biohazard containers, and large plastic tube full of supplies. The woman worked quickly, not saying much. The silence was okay with him though, because he didn't have much to say either.

She snapped a blue rubber tourniquet above his elbow, and flicked at the inside of his arm while looking for a vein. She gave no warning as she pierced his skin with the needle, but he barely felt it. The only thing that affected him was the minor dizziness he felt after what looked like a dozen vials of his blood were collected. It seemed like more than usual. She quickly marked each vial with his name, and when he tried to stand, she simply held her arm out, adding "stay put", without looking up from her task. He remained seated in the chair until she finally lifted the armrest so that he could get up. She placed a piece of medical tape and gauze over the tiny drop of blood at the spot where the skin had been broken before walking him back out to the waiting room and to the exit.

He roamed around in a mild stupor until he found someone who could direct him to the radiology department. He wanted to get the CAT scan done and over with so that he could get out of this place. The air was stifling, the smell was chemical, and everyone was in a hurry. He also had cancer, it seemed, and he wanted to be anywhere but here.

Laying prone on the CAT Scan table, he felt like a child. Afraid, alone, and reassured by phrases like "you're doing fine, just a few more minutes" and "we're right here if you need us"… They were expressions he would say to Alexis when she was hurt or sick, and the truth was that they helped, felt comforting, at least for the moment.

After a claustrophobic experience in the CT tube, he was finally able to leave the hospital, at least for the day. Dean met him as he was heading towards the exit, promising again that he would put a rush on everything, and that he would call him as soon as possible. When he took his hand to say goodbye, Dean pulled him into a hug that made him _feel _like he was dying.

Castle crossed over to 5th street, making his way back to the 12th Precinct. His car was there, comfort was there, family was there. Kate was there too, although she might make him feel even further away than he already does. Or she could _heal _him. It was like Russian roulette.

He tried to convince himself that he was glad he had decided to walk the short, fifteen minute distance from the precinct to Dr. Edwards'. He thought the walk back would give him time to think, time to get a handle on it all. It only took a few minutes for Castle to realize that he was in over his head. The thoughts were coming too quickly, contradicting themselves. He felt trapped in the crowds of people jaywalking, stopping to look at maps, taking photos. He felt claustrophobic for the second time that day. He felt like everything was collapsing in on itself as he struggled to get to the 12th, he wondered if this was what a panic attack was like. Was _this _what she has been going through for the last year?

He backed up against a wall a few blocks from the station, his hands on his knees, his head down. He struggled to catch his breath, but felt like he was drowning in himself, in the world around him. He felt like he was being swallowed. The parade of voices from every direction made it impossible to think. He wanted to scream, to run, to curl up like a baby, in the fetal position.

A second before he was sure he was going to drop, he felt two hands on the side of his face.

"Castle?" she questioned as she pulled his head up. It was Kate.

When she saw his face, she was horrified to see it red, swollen, tear stained. She could hear him choking back sobs. She didn't know what this was about, but she knew the feelings that bring about such a reaction. And she knew _him. _

She reached for him, snaking her arms underneath him, wrapping her arms around his back. After a few still seconds, he reached for her in return. He grabbed at her back and sobbed against her neck. She knew enough not to ask questions right now. Questions push people away. She lifted her head and looked around at their location. They were less than a block from the 12th, but there were people everywhere. Too many people, too many for either of them.

"Can you walk with me for a minute, Castle?" she asked. He nodded affirimitively against her, and she turned to open them up. With their arms still wrapped around each other's backs, she moved for them. She led them across the street, and then down an alley near the back of a pizza joint. At the end, the walls opened outward, creating a dark circle with a sunny space that looked like a miniature flower garden. There were wooden crates turned upside down like stools. She let go of him to grab one, setting it down beneath where he stood. She grabbed a second one, setting it close and across from him. She sat, and motioned for him to do the same. He slumped down onto the box, falling into her embrace, their knees seated in between one another.

She had found this little spot during one of her worst panic attacks, when she had searched wide-eyed for a place where no one could see her. She had run out of quiet hallways and vacant offices, but was desperate for a place to catch her breath, to take it all off and breathe. She had darted out the front entrance of the precinct, tearing at her vest, panicked and seeing only in tunnel vision. She must have looked insane, surely not displaying the straight edged, fearless demeanor expected of a member of New York's finest. She didn't care… No, that's not right. She cared, but she couldn't even _see_ objectively during those moments. It was just her and the daunting wall that laughed, cackled at her, challenging her. On that routine work day, she spoke foxhole prayers both aloud and in her head. She ran quickly and diagonally across the road, eliciting horn blows and middle fingers as she narrowly missed being run down by a Suburban. Once she was safely across, she ran between the side exits of a pizza shop and an abandoned office building, following the dark and damp backstreet to the end, where it opened up to a large but vacant concrete shelter. It was lacking a roof but It was quiet enough and comforting in the privacy and solitude it offered. For Kate, it had become a place where she could work through her anxiety alone, where she could cry and express her frustration without feeling judged by the world, by her friends, her family.

She held his head in her hands, absorbing the intensity of his sobs before moving her right hand to his back, tracing comforting circles over the space with her open hand. She whispered in his ear the only reassurances that she knew had helped her. She told him that he was not alone, that she would be there as long as he wanted and needed her to be. She told him that they would get through it together.

As he listened to her words, his breathing began to slow and his tears came less frequently. She rocked him slowly, having stopped talking to give him time to allow the silence to heal him in this moment. As he caught up with himself enough to control his emotions, the first feeling he felt was one of shame, embarrassment. He felt like less of a man, and as he tried to pull away from her grasp, she resisted him. She knew the _need _to escape. She was an expert at it and knew that it only made things worse. The only thing that running away had done for her was further isolate her from the people she loved, from Castle. It kept her alone and suffering, sending her further into her depression, her PTSD, her crippling anxiety. She refused to let him go there.

"Castle", she began in a soft, supportive voice, her mouth against his ear. "You don't have to tell me what happened to you today, although I wish you would. Regardless, though, I'm not leaving you right now. I'll take you home and we'll figure this out together." She said. She wasn't giving him an option. And he knew he could not fight her on this one. He knew that if the tables were turned, he wouldn't leave her either.

"My car's here." He mumbled to her as they stood up to head out of the alley.

"That's okay, Castle. Can't think of a safer place to leave it, right?" Her tone was light, purposely so. He knew she wouldn't let him drive away alone, or hell, drive at all for that matter, so he followed her across the street and back towards the 12th. They took the stairs to the second floor of the parking garage, where she had parked her car that morning. They went slowly, but he was reminded with a jolt of what he experienced in the stairwell at Dr. Edwards' office earlier.

They had walked in virtual silence until Kate unlocked her car with her key chain, opening the doors from ten feet away. He slumped into the passenger seat while Kate put her gun and bulletproof vest in the trunk.

When she slid into the driver's seat, she caught Castle's eyes for a quick moment. She gave him a momentary smile, one that she tried to insert translations of support and comfort into. He smiled back, close-mouthed and unconvincingly. She sighed as she twisted forward in her seat, turning the keys into the ignition until the engine roared to life. She put her right hand on the back of Castle's seat, reaching for the shifter and putting it into reverse before looking behind her. As she began to move her foot from the accelerator, Castle's hand came to rest on hers, over the shift stick.

"Stop, please." He said quietly. Without a word, Kate put the car back in park, and turned the ignition key to the "off" position. She unbuckled her seatbelt and turned to him once more, waiting for him to speak.

Kate watched his face as he squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip. He rolled his head back onto the headrest and sighed loudly before finally opening his mouth.

"When I left today, I went to my primary care up the street. I've been getting these …episodes… of tightness in my chest, and I just hadn't felt myself, so Alexis made the appointment." Castle lifted his head to look at her. Her arms were wrapped around the steering wheel, and she had rest her head on them like a pillow, facing him, listening.

"I went in last week and saw my friend Dean, uh Dr. Edwards. It was nothing, no problem. Just routine blood work. It was nothing." He repeated.

"Then why did you go back today, Castle?" Kate asked. She hadn't wanted to push him, but now she was scared. She knew that whatever had happened in that office today was enough to push him to a place that was darker than she had ever seen him go before.

Castle continued, while straightening out a paper clip he had found in his pocket. "Dean thinks I have Cancer, Kate."

He had blurted it out in a manner that shocked him as much as it had her. He hadn't said it out loud yet, and hearing the word spoken in his own voice was jarring.

He looked back at Kate, and saw her mouth hanging open, her hands turning white as she gripped the steering wheel. She looked downward, her hair hanging loose and brushing across her thighs. He watched her, staying silent, holding his breath while she gathered herself around the news that he had just dropped on her. He reached for her, the tips of his fingers lightly grazing her hand as it sat wrapped around the wheel. Her grasp loosened some, and she slowly turned to look at him again. He took in a sharp gasp when he saw what looked like tears in her eyes.

She sighed, long and quiet as she returned his gaze. There were tears in his eyes too as she reached for him awkwardly over the center console, pulling him as closely as possible. Their arms were wrapped around each other, her head on his chest as he cried in her shoulder for the second time that day.

They stayed draped around one another for several minutes, their arms drifting across each other's backs. Kate moved first, pulling back slowly, her eyes pointed towards her hands, which had come to rest on his chest. She tapped him lightly there with her open palms before looking up to him again and opening her mouth.

"So, where do we go, Castle?"

He wasn't sure he understood her question, and he knew it showed. He simply stared back at her, dumbfounded… It could mean so many things.

She took his face in hers and spoke again with intention and purpose. "Castle," she began. "How do we fix this? When do we get the answers to make you better, if that's what this is?"

She had found out about Castle's condition, whatever it was, only minutes after he did. He knew as much as she did, he was just as confused.

"I… I don't know," he stammered. "Dean called me in for a second appointment, said he had something to discuss with me. He told me my white blood cell count was too low, and he sent me for more tests. He told me he'd call me as soon as he knew anything, but Beckett, he scared the shit out of me. I've never seen him like he was today." Her hands were back on his chest, and she could see them rising from the heart pounding beneath them.

She bit her lip hard, trying to hold back any more tears. He was going to have enough of his own without having to take the time to wipe hers away.

She breathed deeply before speaking again. "Okay, Castle. I'm just going to need you to let me help you walk through this." She put her hand up to silence him when he started to open his mouth. "I need you to let me be there for you. I know things have been difficult lately, but the concept of 'partners' will always apply. The concept of 'always'… will always apply."

He stared at her, mouth gaped as he nodded his head slowly.

"Good", she said, turning the ignition over once again before pulling out of the parking spot. Once the car was in drive, she reached over to him once more, and put her hand in his.

His biggest fear had always been dealing with the big stuff alone, or leaving Alexis without a parent. The thought of withering away to some bad luck, luck-of-the-draw disease, of falling further and further from his own life, it terrified him. He didn't know if he even _had_ cancer yet, but the whole thing sounded pretty grim.

Feeling her warm hand in his made things just a little less _heavy_, hearing her promise to be there with him, whatever that meant, made it all a bit less menacing. They were going to get answers and _they _were going to deal with them. _They _were going to travel this road.

He got so much more comfort from the pronouns, "they" and "we" than from the singular "I". He might be able to get through this terrible day as long as _they _did it together.

Tomorrow still scared the shit out of him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: Patient (CHAPTER 2)**

**Summary: Castle receives uncertain news from his doctor, and Kate helps him through the earliest part of the journey. This is an AU story with nothing but the most minor of spoilers, if any. Takes place roughly between **_**Undead Again**_** and **_**Always**_**, at least as far as the dynamic of Rick and Kate's relationship at that point. (i.e.: they aren't in one, but they both want to be. They are trying to push walls and lies and obsessions out of the way…) **

**Chapter 2 largely addresses where Castle and Beckett are in relation to their feelings for each other, and Castle gets some more definitive news about his health, which will be addressed more directly in the next chapter. Things are going to get very dark.**

**Possibly M in the future. This **_**will **_**be Caskett, but you can pretty much pretend the **_**Always **_**ending never happened… I know… BLASPHEMY!**

**Author's Notes: Since the 12****th**** Precinct no longer physically exists, I used the address of the 9****th**** Precinct, which has been used for exterior shots of the 12****th****. The address used for the sake of this story is 321 East 5****th**** St. between 2****nd**** Ave. and 1****st**** Ave.**

**I have created a physician for Castle. Dr. Dean Edward's is an original character and even though it shouldn't contradict anything from the show regarding Castle's general medical practitioner, I felt better creating a character to do what I wanted in this story.**

**My plan is for this to be a multi-chapter story. I absolutely want to complete it, but as we all know- reviews motivate. Thank you for taking the time to favorite, save, or review this story. Thank you to anyone who has read and enjoyed my previous stories as well. Your feedback is critical.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own nor am I affiliated with Castle, ABC, Disney or related parties.**

**CHAPTER 2**

_His biggest fear had always been dealing with the big stuff alone, or leaving Alexis without a parent. The thought of withering away to some bad luck, luck-of-the-draw disease, of falling further and further from his own life, it terrified him. He didn't know if he even had cancer yet, but the whole thing sounded pretty grim._

_Feeling her warm hand in his made things just a little less heavy, hearing her promise to be there with him, whatever that meant, made it all a bit less menacing. They were going to get answers and they were going to deal with them. They were going to travel this road. _

_He got so much more comfort from the pronouns, "they" and "we" than from the singular "I". He might be able to get through this terrible day as long as they did it together. _

_Tomorrow still scared the shit out of him._

They walked into the lobby of Castle's loft silently, physically close but quiet as they made their way up the elevator and to the door outside his home. As he began to turn the key in the lock, he stopped, looking back to Kate, who was waiting behind him. "I don't want to tell Alexis about this, yet," he said, with a dark tone to his voice.

She touched the side of his face gently, smiling before responding. "There isn't anything to tell them, Castle. As of this moment, I don't believe that you are anything but a healthy man. No use in worrying her, or anyone, until we find out anything different." She said the words with as much conviction as she could gather, even if she wasn't sure she believed them.

There was that "we" again, and it reassured him. It implied that, at the very least, he wouldn't have to face whatever was coming towards him alone. He nodded his head after processing her words, not quite sure if he agreed with them either, but at least he had someone to say them. He fully turned the key, and pushed the door, leading them into his apartment.

The lights were dim as they entered, indicating that Alexis and Martha were likely not home. He sighed heavily, collapsing onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar.

"What do you want to eat?" Kate asked, as she quickly made her way into the kitchen. He looked at her with a puzzled expression, which she met with a stare and a smile. She was struggling with the smiles, because they contradicted what she felt, but she had made a silent vow to say whatever brought him comfort. This wasn't about her.

"Castle, what do you want to eat?" she asked again, punctuating each word.

"You're cooking?" he asked, surprised at the gesture, before the low rumble in his stomach revealed just how hungry he really was. She rolled her eyes at him. Fine. She would make the decision herself. "So pasta it is, Castle?" she offered, but her tone didn't really give him any choice. He gave it a second's worth of though, then decided it sounded alright to him. He was rather indifferent and his stomach was sore and upset, but he didn't tell her that.

"Yeah, pasta sounds good," he said to her finally, giving in. "Thank you." she responded, sarcastically acknowledging his inability to make a decision. "Why don't you go relax on the couch, if you are feeling tired." she pushed. "I'll let you know when it's ready."

As he watched her move about the kitchen, collecting pasta and sauce, onions and tomatoes, some hamburger meat, and pretty much everything that hadn't past their expiration dates, he didn't want to move to the couch. Watching her make her way through his home, finding what she needed without instruction, she looked incredibly domestic. It felt good to watch her.

"I'm just going to stay here with you, if that's ok", he said. She looked surprised before nodding her head at him, and stopped what she was doing to respond to him. "That would be fine, Castle. Make yourself at home," she joked.

He laughed quietly as he let his chin come to rest in his hand, his elbow supporting the weight. As he followed her visually across the space, his eyes began to droop. He tried to force them open, tried shaking his head to coax his brain awake, but his brain was the _problem_. His mind wouldn't stop turning, despite how physically exhausted he was as a result of the emotional onslaught he had undergone in the last several hours. When Kate glanced up at him a few minutes later, she turned her head and sighed as she took in the sight of him. He was sound asleep, his head on the breakfast bar, supported by the wrap of his arms.

She fought internally with the ideas of either waking him up and leading him to his bed, or of letting him stay where he was, collapsed in the sitting position in a hard wooden chair. She knew he would wake up in the dark of the early morning hours, uncomfortable and unrested if she left him in the kitchen. He belonged in his bed, absorbing whatever comfort he could as the next few days either altered his life or left him at peace for another day.

Kate tossed the half-cooked past in the trash, and returned the unused ingredients to their designated spots before walking around to him. She shook him lightly with a hand on his shoulder, while the other gently rubbed circles over his back. He roused without much effort, sadly adorable as he mumbled and rubbed his eyes. He may as well have crashed hours ago, and not within the last 25 minutes. As he awakened fully, he took in the elements of his tired body, a blinding headache, the stabbing news of the day, and Kate… whispering him awake.

She spoke quietly. "It's 8:30, Castle. You're overtired. Let's get you into bed." She pulled at him until he reluctantly rose, stumbling as he followed her, taking her outstretched hand. She led him through his office and into his bedroom, leading him directly to his bed and pulling back the covers. He clumsily removed his clothing, and she watched every move he made until he stood in just his boxer shorts before her, a green and white plaid pair. He climbed into the bed, moving his body for a moment, searching for that comfortable spot. He pulled the comforter up to his chest, and Kate drew it the rest of the way up, tucking it underneath his chin. She kneeled down to smooth the blanket over him, feeling the shape of him beneath it. Before pushing herself up to stand, she slowly used her pointer finger to trace the sharp line of his jaw, and as she rose, he grabbed her wrist.

"Are you leaving?" he asked. He sounded like a little boy, and it broke her heart.

"I… I was going to go back to my apartment. I'm off tomorrow, so I figured I would grab a few things in case…" she stopped, rethinking her words. What she almost said was "in case you have cancer", but she thought better of it, instead adding "in case you need me."

"I'll need you," He said quickly, as if he were pleading.

"I'll be back first thing in the morning, Castle. I promise."

"I need you", he said, changing the tense from the future to the present. "I need you _now."_

He sat up and pulled at her wrist, still surrounded by the grip of his fingers. She closed her eyes tightly, scared to death of her own feelings. Terrified of how much she wanted to let him hold her, to hold him. She knew he needed it. She certainly did too, but there are _boundaries._ There are lines in the sand, and once you cross them, you can never go back.

As she desperately tried to convince herself of the thousand reasons why this was wrong, she pulled her wrist from his grasp. Once her hand was free, she tugged at the hem of her sweater, pulling it over her head to reveal a dark blue, satin bra. She then twisted open the button on her pants, dragging the zipper down and quickly shimmying out of the jeans. He watched her intently, noting that her panties matched her bra. Of course they did.

She climbed into his bed, sliding in under the comforter that he lifted open for her. She moved back until she collided with his chest. He lost his breath when he felt her hot skin against his own. After a moment of physical awkwardness, the tension released, and she realized just how exhausted _she_ was. It felt like a recharge to lay with him like this. When they had finally settled against each other, she reached behind her to take his hand, laying it over her stomach. She let her hand come to rest on top of his, and after a few moments, their fingers twined together. She tilted her head forward a bit, exposing her neck to him, shivering at the feeling of his searing breath on her skin.

She was nervous, afraid of taking a misunderstood walk-of-shame in the morning, of being confronted by Castle's daughter or his mother. More than anything, she was afraid of having to lie to them. She had learned over the last year how destructive lies could be, even if they are meant to protect. She still held onto the hope that all of this was nothing. Routine testing that would reveal a clean bill of health, and no lies would ever have to be told.

She heard the cadence of his breathing slow, and then even out, and she knew he had fallen asleep. He had slackened, relaxed, and let go of the tension that had been with him all day. She gently pulled his arms so the she could so rest against him completely, cradled by him as he drew strength from their closeness, even in a clouded slumber.

Kate woke up just after the sun began to streak pink and purple and orange across the sky. She watched the light as it moved across the floor of his bedroom, counting the minutes as if she were reading the shadowed lines of a sundial. She found her body in a different position this morning, lying to face him, her chest flush against his side as he lay face down, his head tilted towards her on the pillow they were sharing.

She turned her head to read the bedside clock. It was nearly eight o'clock. She shook her head, disbelieving that she had slept for nearly twelve hours. Sleep had become an elusive commodity for Kate, and yet she had gotten more sleep in Castle's bed than she often got over the course of several days. Had she been working today, she would have been gone for hours now, anyway, but here she was, in his bed because she was afraid to be anywhere else, afraid to leave him. She shifted to the edge of the bed, hanging her legs over the side, stretching loudly as her neck, knees, and joints popped and cracked.

She felt the bed move beneath him, and she knew he was awake. He moved slowly as he crawled to the spot next to her, sitting close enough that their shoulders, sides, hips all collided, their curves fitting like a jigsaw puzzle. When their legs grazed, bare skin touching, he was reminded of what she went to bed wearing, or not wearing, for that matter. Her legs were long, strong and toned. He cautiously reached over to the uncovered area of her upper thigh, resting his hand there and squeezing. He could see her bite her lip as his hands met her skin, and he could hear the quietest hiss from deep in her mouth. She was watching his hand, either waiting for it to move or waiting for him to pull it away, neither of them were sure. She looked up to smile at him before turning and pulling away from him, reaching for her pants. He kept his arm stretched out towards her for a moment after she shifted away, not yet ready to let her go.

She collected her clothes quickly in a pile in her arms, looking back to see him watching her, quietly. He looked sad, somber, and she remembered just how uncertain things were for him right now. The waiting scared her, and made her realize that if something was unclear, or brought doubt for Castle, it naturally did the same for her.

"Do you mind if I take a shower, Castle?" She asked quickly, craving the solitude of his shower stall.

"Of course not, Beckett," he responded. "What's mine is yours", he said with a smile. It was another one of those feigned smiles, where his white teeth were hidden by the forced lines of his lips.

She nodded quickly before turning on her heel and walking into his bathroom. She tossed her clothes on the tile floor, next to two of Castle's haphazardly discarded towels. She undressed quickly while simultaneously reaching in to turn the knob in Castle's shower. She turned it all the way to the right, trying to catch her breath as her chest started to tighten. She felt bound by her bra, and did her best to tear it off while trying to quiet the choking sobs that were making their way up her throat, stealing her breath. Once she was finally nude, she put her shaking hand back into the shower to check the temperature of the water. It was burning hot, which is exactly what she needed. Her shower was unreliable at best, but this was an oasis, and as the burning pellets took only the smallest amount of focus off of her emotions, her fears, she slid down the shower wall and wrapped her arms around her knees as she sobbed.

Kate spent almost a half hour letting go of her emotions, her _frustrations _in the shower, and then dressed slowly in front of his large bathroom mirror. She could see all of herself, no matter where she stood, and wondered what they would look like together, wrapped in each other's arms. As she tried to distract herself from that line of thinking, she grabbed the wet, curly mass of her hair and reached for the elastic on her opposite wrist to tie it up in a messy ponytail.

As she looked at each side of her face in the mirror, studying her reflection, she could hear Castle's phone. She knew it was his, his ringtone was the theme song from "The X-Files", and as the tinny notes played, she ran out of the bathroom, meeting him where his phone sat on the edge of his bed. They looked at each other as he reached to answer the phone, sounding shaky and nervous as he stammered a "H-hello?" to the caller on the other end.

She could only hear his side of the conversation, which consisted mostly of "ok's" and "I see's", a couple of "I understands" before ending the call with a half-hearted "thank you, Dean."

She watched him as he lightly tossed his phone back on the bed, where he had left it. He was intentionally avoiding her eyes, but remained unmoving until he tilted his head downward, towards his carpet, towards their feet.

"Castle!" she insisted, before grabbing his chin to bring his line of sight to hers. "What did he say, Castle?"

She sounded frantic, and moved both of her hands to his shoulders, holding them in place. He slowly, finally moved his eyes to engage hers, lightly shrugging his shoulders. He broke the silence, with no going back. He spoke as if he would break in her arms, as if the world was about to break around them.

"That was Dean." He said. She nodded. She knew that much. "He uh, He said that most of my blood work is back, and that he hoped to get a hold of my scans by the afternoon. He said he would stick around late, and that I should come in around five."

She prodded, because that wasn't enough. That didn't answer anything for her, for him. If anything, it brought up a thousand more questions. Five o'clock was hours away, _lifetimes _away, it felt like.

"So that's all he said? Did he tell you what the blood work determined?" Her questions were frenzied and anxious.

"Um, he said… he said something about 'getting a handle on this thing.'" Castle revealed. "I don't really know what that means, but it feels different than being told that everything came back normal, not to worry." He paused. "It sounded like I have cancer, Kate."

There were tears welling in her eyes before he had a chance to finish his sentence. She hadn't wanted him to finish it, because speaking it aloud made it true.

She was mortified by her reaction. She had gotten very, very skilled at keeping her emotions in check, at holding the darkness in until she could deal with it properly, alone. She had promised him support, and she was collapsing under the weight of a half-assed, phone call diagnosis from some dude named Dean.

As his hands moved to cup her cheeks, she shook her head, quietly repeating "No, no, no," like a mantra. He stilled her head before leaning towards her, unbearably close. Her breathing had slowed, but it hitched in her throat, it was shallow and hard to catch. As his forehead lightly rested against hers, he felt the same way. He felt _symptomatic_. Shortness of breath, dizziness, weakness.

They stood against each other for several minutes as the world stopped spinning around them. She grabbed his wrists, pulling them closer yet, so that their noses were touching. "Is it okay if I go with you this afternoon?" she asked.

She sounded reluctant, but the hesitation dissipated when Castle simply responded back with his own question, asking "Please?"

**Author's Note: Thanks for reading, following, reviewing, and adding to your favorites. **


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

**Summary: Kate stands with Castle as more questions about his health are answered, but the reality is more than either of them could have imagined. They are on the precipice of falling into each other's arms and falling apart.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own nor am I affiliated with Castle, ABC, Disney, Marlowe, or related parties.**

**Author's Notes: This story has proven to be quite intense to write, but it has been cathartic as well. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, followed, or added the story to your favorites. Please keep the reviews coming, as they are fuel for the writer's work… Just so you know, Chapters 4 and much of 5 are completed as well, so I hope to be able to put them up a bit quicker, once they are thoroughly edited.**

_As his hands moved to cup her cheeks, she shook her head, quietly repeating "No, no, no," like a mantra. He stilled her head before leaning towards her, unbearably close. Her breathing had slowed, but it hitched in her throat, it was shallow and hard to catch. As his forehead lightly rested against hers, he felt the same way. He felt symptomatic. Shortness of breath, dizziness, weakness. _

_They stood against each other for several minutes as the world stopped spinning around them. She grabbed his wrists, pulling them closer yet, so that their noses were touching. "Is it okay if I go with you this afternoon?" she asked._

_She sounded reluctant, but the hesitation dissipated when Castle simply responded back with his own question, asking "Please?"_

Castle and Beckett sat across from each other at the kitchen table, having quickly finished off a pot of coffee. Castle watched as Beckett grasped her mug in both hands, close to her face. It was as if she were drawing strength from the piece of ceramic. Rick stood, interrupting the excruciating quiet, and headed towards the kitchen counter.

"More coffee?" he asked, turning on the machine and grabbing the beans before she could answer. She saw that he was already getting another pot started, so she said nothing, just nodding at his back. She reached to where Rick had been sitting, pulling his copy of the New York Times over to her, searching for anything to make the minutes go by faster, something to give them some fodder for conversation, or laughter even.

The harsh crinkling sound of the paper in her hands seemed extra loud, almost so much that it made her wince. He had seen it, standing with one hand on the counter, watching her still as the coffee brewed. He was about to ask her if she was okay, but it sounded silly in his head. He knew she would tell him that she was "fine", or "okay", whether it was true or not. He was interrupted from the thought by the sound of loud, bounding feet making their way down the stairs two at a time, and Kate looked up, her eyes painted with alarm.

"You really went to bed early last night, D…" Alexis started as she made her way to the bottom landing, her voice quieting as she looked between her father and Detective Beckett. "Oh, hi, Detective," she offered, sounding apprehensive, uneasy. "Did you… stay here?" she asked, with mouthfuls of pretense and questions half asked.

Kate's mouth was wide open, as if waiting for her excuse to fall out, but she stayed silent. She bit her lip as Alexis continued to look between her and her father, and Kate thought she might just sink into a puddle under the table, Castle spoke, quickly and awkwardly, his voice a bit too loud.

"Kate, ah… Detective Beckett's… apartment needed to be… taken care of", he started. Kate put her head in her hands as he continued. "Fumigated!" he shouted. "She needed a place to stay because her apartment is being fumigated."

"Yup! Those New York roaches," Kate added, instantly mortified at her own words and at the idea of her apartment being known as a roach motel.

The room was silent as Rick and Kate waited, hoping she bought it. When Alexis nodded her head, making her way into the kitchen and pouring herself a cup of coffee, they were relieved. Rick smiled smugly, as if the tale he just told his daughter was his most convincing piece of fiction yet.

"Sorry about the bugs, Detective Beckett. I've heard those things are tough to get rid of. Will you be staying here for long?" Alexis quizzed Kate.

Kate felt like she had been locked in a stalemate. She was sure the clever and sharp redhead saw right through Castle's story, and it felt like she was being questioned by her parents. She had also seen Castle's head snap in her direction at his daughter's last question. _He _wanted to know how long she would be staying.

"Umm, a few days probably," Kate answered. She knew she sounded unsure, and that it had taken her way too long to answer the question.

"Oh, ok then," responded Alexis. Had Kate heard an uncertain tone in her voice? "Maybe we can make time for a movie night or something, Detective?" Alexis added before moving out of the kitchen to drink her coffee on the living room couch.

Kate felt herself take a deep breath, hearing Castle inhale sharply as well. She was instantly relieved, and nearly convinced that Alexis had no suspicions about the nature of her stay. At least not yet.

Alexis finished her coffee quickly, before heading over to her father's side, leaning against his shoulders before giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Taylorand I are going to do some shopping. I'll give you a call this afternoon, if I wind up deciding to stay out later, if that's okay." She spoke cheerfully, and Rick smiled at his daughter as she rested against him, hoping unrealistically that she wouldn't have to be affected by this… Whatever it was.

When the door closed behind Alexis, Castle turned the lock before being stunned by a sting across the back of his head.

"Fumigated, Castle?" Kate shouted at him, a wrapped up New York Times in her hand. "My apartment has roaches?"

"No, no, no," Castle laughed, pulling his hands up to shield himself from further attacks. "I said fumigated, YOU said roaches." He ducked and moved across the living room as he saw her lift the newspaper again. They dodged each other from opposite sides of the couch, both smiling, enjoying the lighter moment.

"I'm really, really sorry about your bug problem, _Detective_," he joked, initiating a chase that ended in his bedroom as he tripped over his dirty laundry. He hit the floor, and she came down on top of him. He was holding his head and she was instantly worried, figuratively pausing the game to make sure he wasn't hurt. As she let her guard down, reaching for his hands to get a look at his head, he flipped them swiftly, grabbing her hands and holding them over her head.

Her instinct to fight back was immediately interrupted by the feeling of being trapped beneath him, and they both struggled to catch their breath in time with one another, looking into each other's eyes. He knew they wanted the same thing in that moment, and it took him a great deal of self-control to keep from capturing her lips with his own. He knew that it would feel so good, so perfect to just ignore the reality of his life at this moment.

She interrupted his thought process by freeing one of her hands from his grip, moving it to the back of his neck, where his skin met his hairline. She pulled them together so that their foreheads were touching, and their heavy breathing continued. She grabbed her other hand from him, and cupped the side of his face. She bit her lip in that way that reached into his core, and now that his hands were free, he ran them up and down her sides. He could feel her shudder underneath him, and he knew they were in dangerous territory. He could handle his own feelings, but the idea that she _returned _them, that she wanted him just as bad was just too much right now, today. The likelihood of heartbreak was high, and he couldn't get the image of potentially watching her walk away from him again out of his head. He pulled away from her hands, moving up to kiss her forehead quickly, because he needed _something_, before pushing himself up to his knees and away from her.

They both immediately experienced a feeling of loss when he backed away from her. He justified it by telling himself that it wasn't fair to her. Not now. She sat up on his bedroom floor, surrounded by t-shirts and dress pants, and stared at him. He moved back toward her, and reached his hand down to her. She used it to pull herself up, quickly catching and returning his gaze before he turned away from her and walked out of his room.

She followed him, although she wasn't sure if she should. She wasn't sure exactly what she should do, but she had made him a promise. They had until five o'clock, so all of her priorities were there for the moment. She considered it the primary reason she was with him, but there were secondary and tertiary reasons that involved feelings and commitment and partnership and love. They were hidden behind walls of different heights, and God knows how badly she just wanted to break it all down. She deserved it, and he certainly deserved it too, but for now, priorities had shifted.

She found him at his bar, pouring himself a glass of scotch. He tilted the bottle her way, as if to offer her a drink. She thought about questioning him, about pointing out that it wasn't even noon yet, but thought better of it, taking the bottle from him and pouring herself a glass.

They sat next to each other on his couch, their legs tucked beneath them, allowing them to face one another. They drank as the sun rose across the sky outside his window, making small talk about ridiculous things like the weather and the precinct and the quality of the scotch. They were things that were not important, but they were distractions.

They had been silent for several minutes when Rick spoke, looking into his glass as he swirled the brown liquid inside.

"What am I going to tell Alexis?" He wasn't asking her, because he knew it wasn't a question she could answer, but he felt as if he were putting it out there to the heavens, like a prayer, to wherever and whatever they are.

She answered him anyway, more rhetorically than anything, but it helped.

"Your daughter is brilliant, well-adjusted, mature… And she _loves _you so much, Castle."

He smiled, because every word was true. If anything, Alexis was the person he probably had to worry about the least. She was the one that would pick up all the pieces.

"Whatever is happening to you right now," continued Kate, "I know that Alexis will handle the truth like the amazing adult she is turning into."

"She's way more of an adult than I am," said Rick.

Kate laughed, "I'm not going to argue with that one!" she added before unconsciously reaching to run her fingers through Rick's soft hair. He gazed at her, and when she felt herself being pulled closer to him, she recoiled. It was too much right now. Way too much. Fuck, she was a coward.

They sat in silence for a while after Rick refilled their drinks. The quiet was comforting, as opposed to awkward. They were both present in the same space, thinking almost telepathically, trying to transmit their thoughts back and forth without having to do the hard work of actually opening their mouths and speaking the words.

Kate was mildly startled when Rick spoke again. "Is it weird that I actually _want _it to be 5 o'clock?" he asked.

Kate shook her head, and then responded. "No, not weird at all. I've been trying to will the clock to move faster all day," looking up at the clock on his kitchen wall. It was still just past two.

Rick spoke again, after another pause during which she could see his wheels turning. She grabbed his hand, holding it between both of hers, encouraging him to open his mouth, to trust her.

"What if I'm going to die, Kate?" he asked. "What if I am going to miss all the big moments that make life worth living?" There were tears welling, threatening to drop from the corner of his eyes.

Kate put her hand out, resting it on his forearm. "No, Rick," she said, her head shaking back and forth like it did in his bedroom that morning. "No. Stop. Not yet, Rick. Please." She was begging, pleading with him. They were doing so much of that, so much wasting time avoiding the important conversations, hiding behind fear.

They drank and sat together as the afternoon wore on, they talked and they stayed silent. During the quiet moments, Kate felt guilty for shutting him down whenever he brought up the cold realities. She hadn't realized how affected she would become in such a short period of time. She had promised herself, promised him that she would be there. As it turned out, she was the one who was having trouble handling all of it, and she needed him to _live _for her.

When 4 o'clock finally arrived, Rick sent for the town car. They were both relieved and simultaneously terrified as they waited from the call from Castle's driver, letting them know that he was there to take them on a ride that would change their lives, and perhaps the nature of their partnership.

They sat together on the arm of the couch, staring at Castle's phone as if they were trying to will it to ring. When it finally lit up, Castle was able to reach it before the ringer even went off. Rick was on the phone for only a few brief seconds, but when he pressed the "end" button and turned to her, he saw that she was already sliding into her jacket, and was holding his sweatshirt out to him with her free hand.

They took the trip in silence, sitting close enough that their bodies were touching, but there didn't seem to be much worth talking about, save for the obvious, and neither of them wanted to talk about that. They anticipated many conversations about it as the days moved onward, so they both held onto the importance of the brief instants when they could push away the truth. As they turned onto 6th St., he reached for her hand, pulling it into his lap. She was comforted by the gesture herself, and stroked his knuckles with her thumb. She could feel his hand shaking, revealing how nervous he was, and she hoped she didn't give away her similar feelings as she tried her hardest to comfort him.

They were only in the exam room for a moment by themselves, but they stayed quiet, dealing with their nervousness individually. Kate chewed her fingernails, looking up at the ceiling tiles while Castle swung his legs from the height of the examination table, again noting the dirty brown of the floor. He felt awkward sitting so far above her, the paper creasing and tearing under him on the table. It made him _feel _sick, whether he was or he wasn't.

After a short but intense waiting period, during which their feelings hung in the air like fog, making it harder to see each other, Dr. Edwards entered the room, followed by another man, clad in a white coat, with a stethoscope hanging around his neck. Kate squinted to try to read the man's name tag, but gave up with a scowl she feared was louder than she intended.

Dr. Edwards approached Rick with a smile, his hand outstretched. They shook hands, Dean doing so a bit more vigorously than necessary. Rick noticed, his heart pumping hard in his chest. Dean glanced in Kate's direction and then back at Rick, presumably expecting an introduction.

"Oh, Dr. Edwards- Dean, this is my, um, my partner. Detective Kate Beckett." Dean shook Kate's hand, asking "Oh, from the 12th?" Kate nodded, smiling at the doctor.

It was another one of those awkward moments that led Castle to believe that his friend was not so great at delivering shitty news. As Castle and Beckett looked past Dr. Edwards towards the man who had yet to be introduced, Dean turned around, as if he himself was surprised to see the person who had followed him into the room. He extended his arm and pointed towards the man with the entirety of his palm, as if to usher him forward.

"This is Dr. Stanley, he is a colleague of mine, Rick. He is the Chief of Oncology at Mount Sinai and has been kind enough to get involved with your case." Dr. Andrew Stanley smiled politely before reaching forward to shake Castle's hand, and then Beckett's.

Oncology. The man was a cancer doctor. Castle clenched his teeth. And he had a case? He had a case that was being taken on by a cancer specialist. He just wanted Dean, or the new guy, or somebody to just get on with it already. All these vague, soft, conversational visits were killing him, no pun intended. Castle was convinced at this point that it wasn't _whether_ he was sick, but just how sick he was.

Dr. Stanley reached for Castle's file, taking it from Dr. Edwards' hand. He flipped a switch on one of those fluorescent light boxes, and it buzzed to life. The noise it made and the light that jumped before the machine lit up completely reminded Kate of a bug zapper. She was brought back to camping trips as a child and summer nights running and laughing. She was reminded of a simpler time, before being brought back to the room by the voice of the oncologist.

"Mr. Castle, what we have here is the result of your CAT Scan." The man stepped to the side as if the jumble of black and white light would make any more sense to Rick. After what felt like an eternity of silence, Dr. Stanley continued. "Mr. Castle, your scans revealed several enlarged lymph nodes in your chest. That coupled with your low white blood cell count lead me to believe that you likely have a form of Lymphoma. Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma, in my opinion."

For a man who made his living with words, Castle had never been so confused or at such a loss for words himself. He looked over at Kate, and he could see her chest moving up and down, hard and fast. He knew she was fighting to keep it together for him.

Castle finally spoke. "So, what does that mean? And where do we go from here?" He unintentionally echoed Kate's words from the night this all started. Was it really only a day ago? It may as well have been months.

"Well, Mr. Castle," the oncologist continued again. Rick hated being called "Mr. Castle".

"I think the next step would be for you to come see me at Mount Sinai. I would like to work you into the schedule for sometime tomorrow for a needle biopsy and then a lumbar puncture so that we can figure out exactly where you are at. We will be able to find out what stage you are in and what exact cells are being targeted, and likely move to chemotherapy from there."

Kate leaned towards the three men, butting her head into the conversation before opening her mouth for the first real time since they had arrived. "So it's cancer? That's what you're saying, right?" She demanded, her hands balled up into tiny fists.

All three men looked at Kate, who pulled back, afraid she had overstepped her boundaries. The doctors looked at each other, then at Kate, and back to Castle. He nodded his head at them, as if giving them permission to share with Kate. Castle wanted to know himself, but his own shock prevented him from finding the words. He was grateful that Kate had spoken up, but as much as the answer worried and panicked him, he already knew. It had been laid across the floor like blueprints of his future.

"Until we get the biopsy completed, which I would like to do quickly, it is very difficult to be 100% certain in my diagnosis. From what I know, from what I have studied, however… well, I would say that it looks like textbook Lymphoma, which is a cancer of the cells of the immune system. I would be confident to say that that is what he have here, but once again it is about finding out how far advanced it is."

Kate spoke no further. More accurately, she was speechless. The remainder of Dr. Stanley's words were lost on her, save for the ones that cut the deepest. His voice sounded far away, muffled, echoed, but she recognized the terms that made her shiver to her core. Words and expressions like "chemotherapy", and "radiation", "lumbar puncture", "needles", "nodes", and "tumors", those words _hurt_. As she looked at Castle, his eyes met hers and for the first time, she saw that he was truly afraid. He had held her up over the whirlwind of the last day and a half, selflessly, but it was his time to need.

Castle asked questions about things like the effects of chemo therapy, the prognosis of the disease, how long he would be ill for. His only real question was "Will I survive?", but he was too terrified to ask, scared of the answer. He wished he could reach her hand from his spot above her on the exam table.

Dr. Edwards' told Castle that while he would remain his primary care physician, Dr. Stanley would be taking on his case in the oncology department of Mount Sinai**. **Both doctors agreed on "moving quickly", a phrase that he had heard way too much since this nightmare began. They were words that he could _feel_, as there was so much subtext to them. Dr. Stanley told Castle that he would like to see him the next day at the hospital for a needle biopsy and lumbar puncture. They really were moving quickly, and Castle hoped that it was his celebrity status that had put him on the fast track, but when he was honest with himself, he knew why they were moving the way they were.

They walked out of the building and onto the bustling sidewalk, exchanging not a word between them. This situation had introduced them both to feelings that could not be easy translated into words, not even for a best-selling author. As they moved briskly towards the town car, Castle looked in her direction. He could see the fear in her eyes, the uncertainty. She was biting her lip, and for once, he wasn't turned on or smitten by the habit. Instead, he was devastated and saddened by how obviously she was trying to hold it together. He didn't know what made her think that she had to shadow _him _through this experience, but it felt good to not have to take this walk alone.

When their eyes met, she fell apart. She had been avoiding connecting her eyes with his, fearing that it would double the anguish she was already trying to balance. When he looked at her, stopped in the crowd of New York City streets together, she started to cry. She was mortified, ashamed of herself. Castle had just gotten a cancer diagnosis and it was the strength of his eyes and hands and heart that was holding _her _up. He saw the panic in her, rising and about to overflow, and he tore his eyes from her for a moment to locate his town car. When he saw it, about a block away, he put his arm around the entirety of her waist, moving fast, practically carrying her to the car.

When they were safely in the back seat of the car, Castle held her, felt her shaking. When she whispered the words "I'm sorry", he held her tighter, not sure exactly what she was apologizing for. He kissed her head, keeping his nose and mouth in the thick of her hair. She began to settle as the shaking stopped, and he was relieved when he heard her take a deep breath. She had sounded like she was choking as she sobbed in his arms. She needed to _breathe_.

**Author's note: On a personal note, I chose to write about the emotional effects of a cancer diagnosis, and will continue with the story of the physical symptoms associated with chemotherapy, and with Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma, because it is the disease that killed my father. He was diagnosed very late, when the disease was throughout the entirety of his body. In the descriptions to come, as the story progresses, I will be using much of my own memories to write about Rick's experiences. Thanks again for reading and reviewing.**


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4- Patient**

**Summary: The story continues as Castle's treatment begins, and as he and Kate try to navigate their feelings for one another. Relationship establishment coming in future chapters, as well as "the conversation" with Alexis and Martha. **

**Author's Notes: Thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, or added alerts to the story. Thank you for sticking by me through this exercise. Also, a special thank you to those who have offered your words of encouragement and support about my personal experience with the topic presented in this story.**

**I just want to reassure anyone who is scared of this story; this will NOT be a "character death" story. "It is always darkest before the dawn", and there will be a "dawn" for our characters.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own, nor am I affiliated with ABC, Disney, Castle, Andrew Marlowe or any related parties.**

_When their eyes met, she fell apart. She had been avoiding connecting her eyes with his, fearing that it would double the anguish she was already trying to balance. When he looked at her, stopped in the crowd of New York City streets together, she started to cry. She was mortified, ashamed of herself. Castle had just gotten a cancer diagnosis and it was the strength of his eyes and hands and heart that was holding her up. He saw the panic in her, rising and about to overflow, and he tore his eyes from her for a moment to locate his town car. When he saw it, about a block away, he put his arm around the entirety of her waist, moving fast, practically carrying her to the car. _

_When they were safely in the back seat of the car, Castle held her, felt her shaking. When she whispered the words "I'm sorry", he held her tighter, not sure exactly what she was apologizing for. He kissed her head, keeping his nose and mouth in the thick of her hair. She began to settle as the shaking stopped, and he was relieved when he heard her take a deep breath. She had sounded like she was choking as she sobbed in his arms. She needed to breathe._

When they arrived at his loft again, he guided her into the building, and then into the elevator with the tips of his fingers floating at the small of her back. Once inside, they were alone again as the ugly truth of the day weighed heavily over them. They sat in that silence they both hated so much until he grabbed a Pop-Tart, offering her one too.

Before he returned to the table, he found a piece of paper on the counter, written in his mother's elegant scrawl. She had come home briefly to switch out some of her outfits, and then was heading back to the Hampton's with Alexis. His daughter had added a brief note at the bottom, telling him that she would miss him and would see him in a few days, but that she would call in the meantime. She signed the note with a heart, drawn perfectly even in ball point pen. It made him smile.

When he finally sat again, Rick broke the silence first. "Was that a panic attack?" He asked, pointedly and without beating around the bush. She nodded, looking up at him as she chewed the raw breakfast snack. It tasted terrible and she had no idea how he survived on food like that.

"Why?" he asked. He kept it simple, vague. He just wanted the truth, or maybe it was just because he wanted the distraction.

"Sometimes they just… happen," she began. "Other times, it's triggered by something. Today it was triggered by… all of this. And I'm sorry, Rick. I promised that I would be there for you and I'm a mess." Her voice wavered as she spoke. He got up and walked over to where she was sitting, putting his hands on her shoulders and leaning down so that his lips were at her ear.

He whispered "Please, Kate. Please do not apologize for walking by my side, _despite _how hard all of this is right now. I need _you_, exactly as you are, doing exactly what you are doing."

She turned to lean into him, wrapping his arms around his waist, her head on his chest. She could hear his heart beating, and she knew hers echoed the sound.

As night took over the city, and the skyline lit up like fireworks, they found themselves sitting by his massive windows, looking out at the magic of it all. They both loved this city, day and night, for all of its darkness as well as for the never ending glow that settled on the streets, outlining the shapes of men and women moving, talking, _living._

Kate watched as shadows played across the silhouette of his face, creating sharp angles at his nose and his chin, and making the short, mussed bangs at the front of his head look pointy, like blades. Rick turned his head to look at her, as If he had felt her eyes on his face. He wasn't entirely convinced that he _hadn't _felt her. Usually when they caught each other, they denied, they made excuses, they made jokes. They did everything but talk about it, but they both knew the feeling of their opposing stares.

Rick wanted to talk about it.

He pushed himself out of his chair, his hands on the arm rests before slowly walking the few steps to where Kate was sitting, her bare feet resting against the metal window frame. Their eyes were locked on one another, as if challenging the other to give up first.

When he reached her, his thighs collided with her hips, framed by the cushion of the chair. He broke eye contact to follow the trail of her legs, reaching for her ankles as they rested high, next to the window. He could feel her muscles tense and her toes curl as he touched her, making him laugh quietly and shudder simultaneously. He kept his hands on her legs, picking her ankles up and moving them towards the ground until her feet were touching the floor again.

She was biting her lip, yup, he had seen her. The symbolism of that tiny action meant so much, and to know that he could inspire that in her made him continuously wonder why they kept doing this dance, around and around each other when all either of them wanted was to dance together, in sync and in time with one another.

He moved towards her, pushing her thighs apart and filling the space with his body. She looked up at him, could see him watching her in the shadow filled space. He nearly backed away, nearly cut his losses when she didn't move. He steadied himself on the sides of her chair, about to move away when she stood straight up, pushing the chair out and behind her. They were painfully close to one another, sharing oxygen and personal space, each remaining statuesque, afraid that if they moved, the fragile state of the moment would be lost forever.

As their knees bumped as a result of their awkward closeness, Castle put his hands on her hips, feeling the strong, abrupt sensation of her bones there. He used his position to try and pull them closer still. The space was filled entirely with _them_, and as her hand snaked up his chest around to the back of his neck to pull their foreheads together, he recognized the comfort of the spot. It was about as intimate as they could get without touching their lips together or peeling each other's clothes off. It was limiting, but it was monumentally significant, nonetheless. Each time, the spot felt more cherished, more connecting. It felt _theirs. _He would take it any day rather than watch her walk away from him, and when he asked himself why they couldn't seem to move to the next logical place, beyond touching and sharing and cuddling and trusting, the answer that smashed into his brain were a million voices screaming "cancer! Cancer! Cancer!"

It was an uncertain truth that both of them were trying to make sense of, trying to wrap their heads around, and he wondered why she stayed with him. His condition was still a mystery, and as the word echoed in his head, he understood why he couldn't move towards her, why he couldn't take that next, pivotal step.

The answer made sense to him in the context of fairness. It made him able to move his head from hers, to back away because it was what was _right. _It hurt and burned and ached to move away from her, but he did it because he cared, so much.

Kate shivered at the loss of him, so close, skin touching. Why did they keep doing this? Why did they keep denying this? She had no idea that she was asking herself the very same questions as him, experiencing the same doubts. She felt inadequate, as if she just wasn't enough for him right now, when he needed her the most. Her insides twisted and tightened at the thought.

Kate collected herself, walking to flip the wall switch to turn the kitchen lighting on, drowning out the fluorescent glow of the city. The brightness of the LED bulbs revealed the flushed tone that their cheeks had taken on, and removed them from the private reverie that they had nearly slipped into in the darkness of the loft.

Wearing the same clothing she had yesterday, Kate panicked when she realized that she didn't have a spare outfit or a bag or toiletries. She was due in at the 12th in the early morning hours, and as her anxiety rose, she turned the lack of clothing into an excuse. She had to leave, she had to work, and he had to rest.

"What time are your tests tomorrow?" she asked, fingering the hem of her shirt. She knew that Dr. Stanley had told him to be at his office at 10. She knew. She had heard everything he said, but wanted to slip out of his loft before there was any more touching, any more staring and filled silences.

"Um, I have to be there at 10 am," he said, confirming what she already knew. "I spoke to Dr. Stanley on the phone a bit earlier, and he said that I should be there for a few hours, at least."

She shook her head slowly, trying to leave the impression that she was listening to him before asking him another obvious question, wrapped in pretext, prepared to give herself an alibi. "Will you be taking the town car?"

He walked in a circle in the kitchen, running his fingers through his hair. He turned around, facing her but maintaining plenty of distance across the space of the kitchen. His hands rested on the counter, and as he looked up at her he said "You're leaving." It wasn't a question, but a statement that he didn't need confirmation for.

"You can call me if you need me," she offered. She meant it, almost hoping that he would take advantage of her permission. She wished that he would stop her at the door. She wished he would take the opportunities that she kept backing away from.

He nodded his head at her phone call invitation, watching her silently as she moved about his apartment and towards the door. When she reached the entry to his loft, she turned around, searching for his eyes. "I'm sorry," she said, quietly with a hint of guilt. He nodded again, silently accepting.

"I really wish that all of this was easier, Rick," she said. It was a vague statement. He didn't know if she was referring to his illness or the timeliness of it, or if she was talking about the difficulty of being there for him. Perhaps she was referring to the truth behind their mutual feelings for one another. He would agree with her, it was a tough, frustrating dance, but he was just waiting for her to tell him that it was okay. If she just came out and said it, he knew it wouldn't be nearly as difficult as she was projecting. His biggest fear is that she was pulling away because he was a man with cancer, maybe dying. He couldn't blame her for that one.

As they captured one another's eyes, not speaking but projecting volumes, he walked towards where she was standing at the door. She looked nervous suddenly, taking the knob in her hand.

"I don't want you to go, Kate," Rick said. "I know that it isn't fair to ask you to stay, but I want you to. I know that you have things you need to take care of and laundry you need to do before you work in the morning, but I don't want you to go." He paused, "I just need to put that out there."

He sighed heavily as he finished speaking, placing his hand over hers on the door knob. She stared at him, her mouth slightly agape before reverting her gaze back to the doorknob, as it was twisted open by Rick's much larger hand over hers. As the stark light in the hallway flooded his entry way, He looked down at her, his eyes dark and daring. It was if he were challenging her to walk out the door, while hoping with everything he had in him that she would stay.

As she looked at him with a glint that almost looked like tears, she silently mouth the words "I'm sorry" again before pushing the door open the rest of the way, watching his arm extend to hold it open.

She reached for his face, and he backed away just slightly, protecting himself. She chased his face with her hands, finding his cheeks and holding his face towards her. "Please call me tomorrow. Please." She begged, "As soon as your procedures are done, I need to hear from you."

She shook her head at the unfair irony of it. She couldn't give him what he needed, but she demanded that he meet her needs. It made her feel dark, dirty, undeserving of the space she was sharing with him in that instant.

She searched his eyes, staring, boring deep holes into him until he finally nodded his head at her. "I'll call you, Kate."

"Promise?" she asked, feeling like a little child.

"Always, Kate." He said, turning into her palm, hoping to feel a little more of her skin before she walked away. She nodded, blinking long and breathing heavily, before she moved his head down to kiss him on the forehead.

His eyes opened again at the absence of her touch and he watched as she walked into the hallway and headed to the elevator. She looked back to see him watching her, and she gave him a forced smile before pressing the button on the elevator and stepping on, away from him.

He closed the door finally, standing by it for a long moment, perhaps hoping that she would return that she would come back to him. He shook his head at himself, at the stupidity of his own expectations before walking to his bedroom, expecting to toss and turn throughout the night.

From the moment she had arrived at the precinct the next morning, Kate was distracted, and Kevin and Espo noticed it. They watched her get lost in her thoughts, and stare at Castle's chair. They saw how much she struggled with the stack of paperwork she was working on. Kevin nearly asked her if she was ok, despite Esposito's best advice. "Leave her alone, Ryan," he had insisted. "You know how Beckett handles things. If there is something she needs us to know, we'll know."

Mere minutes had passed after Kevin and Espo's conversation when Beckett asked if she could speak to them, moving their chairs into a tight circle so that their knees were nearly touching. They noticed how she looked around her, as if to make sure no one else was listening. "This needs to stay inside this family," she insisted. It was much like she words she spoke after they lost Montgomery, and before they almost lost her. Her tone and her mannerisms made them both nervous, both expecting the next shoe to drop.

After several quiet minutes during which very little was said, Beckett finally spoke. "Castle has cancer," she said, trying and failing at finding the perfect words. She didn't think there was anything more appropriate than the truth, and she bit her lip as her team, her brothers stared at her with open mouths. She told them what she knew, which wasn't much, but that Castle was in the hospital for some more tests that day. The boys were shocked and saddened. Espo was angry, crossing his arms across his chest while he pursed his lips. He looked like he was about to punch somebody. Kevin, on the other hand, looked like he was about to cry. They all handled their feelings surrounding their jobs differently, but when it came to someone who was a part of their team, when it came to Castle, they all felt like there was a hole in their crew, and they wondered what they ever did without him.

Kate told the boys about Castle's biopsy and his lumbar puncture, to be conducted late that morning. They both noted how scared she sounded, and how she tried to hide the shake in her hands and in her voice as she spoke. Ryan and Esposito shared a glance, not needing to speak to know that they were both thinking the same thing. It was Espo who opened his mouth first, telling Beckett that they would cover for her, that she should go to the hospital to be with Castle.

She pretended that she didn't _need _to be there with him, but when the opportunity was offered, she took it without making any excuses or reasons why she should just stay at work. Right now, what people thought didn't matter. They could assume whatever they wanted, but she cared so much more about Castle. She had to be there for him. She had barely slept the night before, and when it came down to it, she had promised, and she wouldn't go back on it.

When Kate found her way through the hospital and to the oncology department, she searched frantically for the right door, the right room, the right corner of this dismal and sad place before finally stumbling across Dr. Stanley's office. When she entered, she walked immediately to the reception desk, telling the woman in bright orange scrubs who sat behind the paned glass who she was, that she was here for Rick Castle.

The receptionist disappeared for a moment, and Kate bounced lightly from foot to foot, needing to move, needing to be distracted. After a few moments, the lady in orange appeared again, buzzing Kate inside the office and motioning her to follow. The woman knocked lightly on an exam room door before being invited in by the doctor. She held the knob in her hands before turning back to Kate. "Your friend is going to look like he is in a lot of pain, sweetie, but it's all routine and the doctor is doing the best he can to make this as comfortable for Mr. Castle as possible. Just be there for him. That's all you can do, right now," she said, pushing the door inward as Kate nodded at the woman in response to her words. Kate knew they were meant to be reassuring, so she took them at face value, even though they sounded like a death sentence.

When Kate entered the room, Castle was lying on an exam table on his side, facing away from her. His lower body was covered by a sheet, while everything from his tailbone up was bare. Dr. Stanley was standing off to the side observing while another doctor sat on a stool near Castle's lower back, a tray of instruments next to him. Dr. Stanley motioned her over to Castle, and she tried to avoid knocking things over as she made her way to his head. She looked over Castle's body and saw a large needle that the doctor had inserted into Castle's spine. Dr. Stanley offered her a stool, and she was grateful because the room had started to spin as she watched the white coats float around the room and smelled the sharp sting of rubbing alcohol. Once she was seated, she notice that Castle had clenched his eyes shut, his teeth gritted as he felt the pressure of the long needle piercing the ligaments connecting his vertebrae.

Kate gently stroked his hair from his forehead back, startling him as he opened his eyes to see her sitting next to him. He smiled with as much truth as he could in the situation, scared and in pain, but so relieved to see her face. His skin felt soft to her fingertips, and she stroked his hair while wrapping her free hand with his. He canted towards her when the pain or pressure was especially unbearable, squeezing her hand while trying so damn hard to focus on the heat of her breath as she held her lips to his forehead.

Castle hissed when the long needle was removed from his back, instantly feeling the complaint of the surrounding nerves, but the worst of the pressure was gone. The doctor, who was a neurologist, left the room with Dr. Stanley while a nurse applied a small bandage to the spot on his lower back. Kate stayed, with her lips to the skin below his hairline until they were alone.

"Thank you for coming, Kate," he said, lifting his head to look up at her while shifting his body to a more natural, comfortable position. He gently picked up the hand he had squeezed and looked at her, silently asking if he had hurt her. She smiled and shook her head, kissing his knuckles as if to reassure him.

"That needle fucking hurt," he said. His voice was hoarse and tired sounding, and it pulled at her. It made him sound sick, and that terrified her. She smiled in response to him, regardless, running her fingers through his hair.

"You got through it, Castle," Beckett said. "You'll get through whatever they throw at you. I'll be here. We'll get through it."

He closed his eyes at the sound of her voice. He loved hearing her use words like "we" and "us", but he was confused about what they meant, at least to her. He also didn't want her to feel obligated to sit at his bedside for every procedure, every check-up, every appointment. It didn't seem fair, no matter how badly he wanted it.

As Castle waited to be discharged, having been given a bit of time to recover from the immediate side effects of the lumbar puncture, Kate sat with him as she had during the procedure. She was close, so close and she just wanted to touch the skin of his upper body, still exposed to her. She wanted to gently soothe the skin where he had been injected, to just graze the swollen area with her palm.

As they waited, they didn't speak, instead settling into the quiet communication that existed in the silence that was only broken by the flow of their breaths. He shifted, clearly uncomfortable but managed by the feeling of her hands raking through his hair, tickling his scalp. He sighed and moved into her touch, pulling away only when there was a quick knock at the exam room door. They weren't given enough time to respond before the door swung open, revealing Dr. Stanley, who was holding Castle's already thorough and extensive chart. The oncologist rolled one of the stools over to the hospital bed. As Castle shifted and turned to face the doctor, the sensations in his lower back made him nauseous, also bringing a pounding headache along with it. He closed his eyes to try to center himself, to gain some control over the feverish feeling he was experiencing in waves throughout his body.

Kate watched Castle as his expression changed, his heart rate increased, and he began to take shallow, fast breaths. When the doctor had come into the room, Castle had moved to face him, leaving Kate to face his back again. As she watched Castle struggle through the pain and the panic, Dr. Stanley pulled his stethoscope from around his neck, quickly plugging the ear pieces in before placing the small, round chest piece over Castle's heart and moving around the entirety of his chest and torso. After removing the rubber plugs from his ears, he replaced the piece of equipment, hanging it again on his neck.

The doctor looked again at Castle, then reached out to feel the highest part of Castle's chest, and then his neck. His hands were cold, and Castle shivered uncomfortably towards the feeling. As Dr. Stanley pulled his hands back and then removed his latex gloves with a quick snap of the wrist, he started to speak.

"Mr. Castle, can you tell me if you have had any strange or different physical symptoms than normal over the last few weeks?"

Castle paused, thinking about the feeling of losing his breath, of his chest aching, of the weakness he had felt lately. He told the doctor as much as he could remember, including the incident that occurred in the stairwell to Dean's office, when he had gone breathless, seeing stars while trying to keep his legs from giving out.

He purposely avoided looking at Kate as he described his symptoms, knowing that he would see fear and panic in her eyes. More than that, he imagined that she would be angry at him for keeping the change in his health from her. Worse still, he feared that Kate would feel as if he hadn't trusted her, which couldn't be further from the truth. He was protecting her, even though he knew that the truth would hurt her.

When the doctor spoke again, he had more answers, but they didn't make anything more certain. "Mr. Castle, when the results come back from your biopsy and your spinal tap, I would like to proceed with chemotherapy immediately. I will be able to be more specific, diagnostically, once those tests are in front of us, but in my professional opinion, going forth with treatment seems needed."

Castle squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing them hard with his hand before responding. "So when will we have those results? When do you think I'll start chemotherapy? How long until I'm ok again? Or am I going to die? What do I tell my daughter? How sick am I going to be?"

Castle went on and on, his breath hitching as his stumbling words caught in his sobs. He had bent his head forward, his body wracked with tension and fear and the speed at which his life, his world had flipped on its axis. He didn't hear her move to get up from her chair, he didn't hear her step on the little metal stool and climb onto the exam bed. It wasn't until he felt her hands on his arms, moving to wrap him up in her. Despite the difference in their body sizes, she just felt like _relief_. She kept reminding him, in large and subtle ways, that she was _with _him. As they sobbed in each other's shoulders, Dr. Stanley shuffled his feet, played with his pen, and tapped his fingers before awkwardly and quietly saying "I'll give you two a moment," before turning and walking out of the room.

Castle and Beckett rocked each other, his hands wrapped around her back, while hers were clasped around his neck and shoulders. When they pulled apart after a few moments of relaxing and catching their breath, their puffy eyes and reddened faces mirrored one another. Castle reached up to wipe his thumb underneath her eye as they both looked directly into one another.

They both jumped at the knock at the door. This time, Dr. Stanley had waited for them to give him the o.k. before he pushed the door open. Along with Castle's chart, he also had several information sheets and pamphlets. Castle could read the one at the top, entitled "What to Expect from Chemotherapy." Seeing the word in print created a lump in his throat. "That looks like a terrible read," he joked. She smiled at his ability to make a lighter moment out of the most awkward ones, the most painful ones.

"Mr. Castle," Dr. Stanley spoke again, "we've got your test results on the fast track, so they should be back some time tonight. I would like it if you could come in tomorrow for those, and then we can get you moving with chemotherapy."

Castle laughed softly, again hearing references to his tests being rushed, his results cutting to the front of the line. Dean had done a lot for him, but Castle also wondered just how rushed everything would be if he wasn't "bestselling author Richard Castle". Everything was moving so fast. He couldn't wrap his mind around everything that had happened in the past 48 hours. It was too fast. He would rather not have any of this "put on a rush" or "fast tracked". He wanted to go back to his life with his daughter and his muse and an exciting, successful life. He couldn't imagine how significantly all of those things would be affected by whatever was coming next.

"…Until then, I would like to you take it easy tonight." The doctor looked back and forth as he spoke, giving the information to Kate as well as to Castle. "You've had some moderately invasive tests today and symptoms like headaches and dizziness are not uncommon." Dr. Stanley pulled out a prescription pad, writing a prescription for a few days' worth of Vicodin, in case he needed it for pain.

Castle nodded, taking the piece of paper from him. He had no questions, and he wanted it to stay that way for at least a day, a night, a few hours, even. As they walked out of the oncology practice, his hand hung lightly at the small of her back and they moved quickly as they made their way out of the building.

She noted out of the corner of her eyes that he was wearing a pair of heather grey Columbia University sweatpants, surely a gift from his college bound daughter. He was also wearing a blue hooded sweatshirt, and he looked like he was in his pajamas. He looked small, exhausted, adorable.

Neither of them could breathe in the starchy labyrinth of the hospital corridors. As they neared the doors, opening and closing with the wave of patients and visitors and staff that constantly moved in and out of the building, Kate asked "How did you get here? Town car?" He nodded as she pointed towards the parking garage, leading him as he fell a few steps behind. "I'll drive," she said without looking back. "Your car is still at the 12th, isn't it?" She knew the answer, but the detail had gotten lost over the last few days. They would work it out, having Espo or Ryan move the car back to Castle's condo when necessary. It just didn't seem all that important at the moment.

Kate slipped into her car quickly, but noticed Castle cringe, a look of pain on his face as he moved to get into the car. She stopped him with her hand, reaching over the center console before stepping out of the car and popping her trunk open and rustling inside. She found a travel pillow and waved it in Castle's direction, smiling at her find. "Will this help?" she asked, moving in front of him to set the pillow on the seat. He nodded, quietly thanking her as he attempted to get into the seat again. He could feel his eyes on her, and he returned her look with a smile. The pillow helped, and he wanted her to know that. It was one of those little things that made him love her and long for her while also making him feel weak, even ashamed. It made him feel unworthy of all of this, all that she was doing for him. They were becoming so close, but a cancer diagnosis just seemed like such an unfair place to try to start a relationship. So close.

As they navigated their way through the city streets, she looked at him, asking if he needed to fill his prescription. She saw him shake his head out of the corner of her peripheral vision. He pulled the small piece of paper out of his pocket before verbally answering her. "It's um, it's for Vicodin. I really want to try to avoid taking this stuff if I can. I don't like the feeling of being all doped up."

She respected his reasoning, and decided not to push the issue. There was a 24 hour pharmacy near his loft in case he really needed it.

"When I was going through the worst of my panic attacks, when they were coming at all hours and they were just… scary, dangerous," she searched for the word to describe those episodes, shaking her head to reset the image of the darkness of her apartment, a bottle of whiskey in one hand, her gun in the other. "Dr. Burke, uh, my doctor wanted me to take some anxiety medication, but I just couldn't. I told myself if it got bad enough, I would, but I knew they would make me feel disconnected…" She drifted off as she finished speaking. She could feel him watching her.

"What would have been 'bad enough', Kate?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You said that you would have taken them if things had gotten 'bad enough'. How much more would you have had to go through for a little relief?"

She didn't have an answer for him, and stayed still and quiet, thinking even as she parked her car in his designated space. How much was "bad enough" for him? She wanted to ask, to take the focus off of herself, but she didn't. As she exited the car, she walked around to the passenger door, putting a hand out for him. He took it, allowing her to help pull him onto his feet. He grimaced for a beat, feeling momentarily dizzy and steadying himself against the roof of her car while continuing to hold her hand.

He recovered quickly, blinking his eyes to steady his field of vision and then turning to Kate, whose eyes were wide and filled with concern. He gave her a quick smile of reassurance, and they started walking towards his lobby.

**END OF CHAPTER 4**

**Thanks for reading, and please keep the reviews coming. They are true motivators.**


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5 **

**This chapter is ALL about relationships. It's a long one, but it opens the door for future chapters, and also lightens things up a bit. **

**In future chapters, we will see more of Alexis and her response to Castle's illness, as well as Martha's reaction, which we have not seen yet. Martha will play a very interesting role in coming chapters as Castle begins his true struggle with his condition and treatment.**

**The difficulty in maintaining a relationship in these conditions will most definitely be addressed, which is why I chose to do what I did with Kate and Rick in this chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own nor am I affiliated with Castle, ABC, Disney, Marlowe, or any related parties.**

**Author's Note: Thank you so much for your support, your amazing reviews, and to everyone who has chosen to follow or favorite this story. It means an incredible amount. ENJOY!**

"_What would have been 'bad enough', Kate?" he asked. _

"_What do you mean?"_

"_You said that you would have taken them if things had gotten 'bad enough'. How much more would you have had to go through for a little relief?"_

_She didn't have an answer for him, and stayed still and quiet, thinking even as she parked her car in his designated space. How much was "bad enough" for him? She wanted to ask, to take the focus off of herself, but she didn't. As she exited the car, she walked around to the passenger door, putting a hand out for him. He took it, allowing her to help pull him onto his feet. He grimaced for a beat, feeling momentarily dizzy and steadying himself against the roof of her car while continuing to hold her hand. _

_He recovered quickly, blinking his eyes to steady his field of vision and then turning to Kate, whose eyes were wide and filled with concern. He gave her a quick smile of reassurance, and they started walking towards his lobby. _

He wasn't hungry, despite how hard Kate tried to convince him to eat. Old adages like "you need to keep your strength up" and "some hot soup will make you feel better" just weren't working on him, although it made him feel a wave of warmth inside his chest that she was trying to take care of him.

She followed him into his office after pouring herself a glass of scotch. She was sure he wouldn't want one, and she was certain she would protest if he asked. She didn't know what was appropriate or admissible after medical procedures like the ones Castle had gone through today, but she wanted to be safe, to keep _him _safe. In his office, he collapsed heavily on the loveseat that sat against the wall, parallel to his desk. It was smaller than the couch in the living room, but it was soft and comfortable.

"Are you okay," she asked as she watched him rub his eyes. She sat down next to him, tugging her leg under her body to turn towards him, sinking into the cloud-like cushions and placing her glass on the table beside her. She saw him eye her glass, but he said nothing, which relieved her.

"Headache," he answered, closing his eyes and resting his head on the back of the couch. "They said it was pretty common after the lumbar puncture."

She reached for him, pulling his head into her lap. She adjusted her position, and he bent his knees, pulling them into the couch so that they could both fit. She looked down at him as she ran her fingers through his hair, feeling bits of tension slowly release and his breathing relax. She bit her lip as tears began to sting the edges of her eyes. She tilted her head back and fought them with all the will she had inside of her. She felt her bottom lids fill, threatening to spill over and down her face. She held back the sobs that twisted in her chest, trying to concentrate on the feeling of her hands gently stroking his hair.

He knew. He _always _knew, as if he was in tune with all of her body's movements, habits, traits, and tells. He turned his body to look up at her, pushing himself up and scrutinizing her closely. The quick movement brought about a sharp, fast pain at the base of his spine, where the needle had explored earlier that afternoon, and he hissed. He pushed past the brief, deep stings and continued to look at her. He could see her eyes welling like a river in the pouring rain, so he reached for her with both hands, pulling her onto his lap and holding her against him, her head on his shoulder.

She felt ashamed, useless, like she had let him down. How could she _possibly _be there for him if she couldn't handle her own feelings? How could they possibly know how similar their thoughts were?

"I'm sorry," she mumbled against him, her warm breath making him shiver through his t-shirt.

"Why Kate, Why are you sorry?" he asked softly, his head dipping to her neck.

She sighed, exhausted. "I'm sorry that you have to go through this. I'm sorry that I'm not strong enough to imagine you getting sick. It kills me to think of you hurting. It just _aches _and _burns_ so badly, and it's so _unfair._ I mean, do you realize how _good _you are? How _loved_ you are?" she emphasized, pushing against his chest to look at him.

"Kate, you _are_ strong enough. You are _all_ I need." His voice was serious, emphatic. He pulled her hands from his chest as she moved to straddle his thighs, careful in her movements. Their palms met, and he moved his other hand to trap hers in between his much larger ones. He examined their hands together, and noted the size difference. Hers were small but strong, his soft and massive. She slid her fingers in between his, holding his hand as their digits intertwined. He watched her at all angles, from her eyes to where her torso disappeared under the curl of her legs. He expected that she would pull away from him, any second now, any moment. One of them seemed to always disrupt these pivotal, line-crossing events, just short of where it could really turn into something, if it hadn't already.

She pulled his hand, connected to hers towards her, turning his skin towards her lips, placing an open mouth kissed to the backside of his hand. She let he lips linger there, drawing them across his palm and down to the inside of his wrist.

He continued to watch every move she made from hooded lids, eyes darkened with arousal. He was trying to dissect it all, to find the meaning in it, to find her motives. Her lips had stilled at his wrist, and his breath caught in his throat. Seconds felt like minutes as she moved his palm to the top of her thigh, steadying it there with her own fingers. As she finished her scotch, taking the amber colored liquid into her mouth and then blowing the burn away, she turned to him, his hand still where she had left it.

"Thank you for letting me be here with you," she said. "Thank you for trusting me, for allowing me to do my best to take care of you. I know I'm not great at it, so thank you for putting up with me, because I know it's hard sometimes. I'm working on it, I promise."

She rambled, spoke quickly despite the fact that she knew the words, had held them in her heart for so long. She shook her head at herself in frustration as her thoughts bottlenecked on the way out of her mouth. Rick disengaged their hands to hold her face with a hand at each cheek, urging her eyes to stay connected to his.

"Kate," he began, continuing to hold her face, his thumb stroking underneath her eyes, where all the tears fall. "I am certain that I would have hidden in a bottomless bottle of liquor and curled up in my bed surrounded by denial if you weren't here."

Kate reached up at him, mirroring his position by taking his cheeks in her hands. She pulled him toward her, so that their foreheads touched. They always seemed to end up here, but then they seemed to inevitably run away. They were both guilty of it, he knew, but he was tired of running. Rick closed his eyes as he felt one of her hands reach around to the back of his neck, bracketing him to her.

When Rick's eyes fluttered open, his stomach flipped as he looked down at her mouth, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. He knew it was a tell of hers, specifically one that occurred during moments of deep thought, or when they were sharing their darker thoughts and feelings, or when there was that unexpressed passion between them that neither could deny. It made his heart race with equal parts love and fear. If he could read Kate Beckett's mind, it would all be so easy.

Their faces were so close, their hands sweating over each other's skin, it was so epically frustrating. His heart pounded in his chest, hard enough that she could hear it. She removed one of her hands from his face, positioning it over the expanse of his chest, counting the beats and watching her own hand as if she could almost see it jump in response to the unconscious rhythm beneath his skin.

He moved a hand to the back of her head, gently grabbing her hair in his fist, pulling her impossibly close to him. They began to sway with each other, in each other's arms on the couch, as if they were dancing. It was the perfect metaphor for the nature of their relationship. So close but so unbearably far. So much distance to cross despite the warmth of one another's breath and the tiny steps forward they kept taking together.

Castle closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before opening them to see Kate continuing to watch him. Her eyes were dark and persistent as he moved back around from his neck to her face, cradling her. "I want to kiss you," he said, finally. He wasn't asking or persisting, but he had wanted, he had_ needed_ to say it for so long. During the last few days, he had daydreamed about it during the darkest moments, imagining it as she treated his living space as her own.

He could hear her take in a sharp breath, as if she were surprised or startled by his admission. He couldn't imagine her being overly shocked by it, because she knew how he felt. Neither of them had expected him to come out and say it, right there in that moment, however.

Castle felt his nerves switch on, growing into panic as the seconds dragged on. He had said too much, misinterpreted her signals. He had opened his big mouth and ruined everything.

He began to move his hands from her face, quietly muttering "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said th…"

He was unable to finish his sentence before she pulled his face to hers, covering his lips with her own. Slow discovery gave way to frantic passion as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, allowing him to part her lips with his tongue. He could feel her nails through his shirt, intense and demanding. He reached beneath her thighs and moved her so she was riding higher on his thighs, so her chest was sharing space with his. When his body stiffened at another shot of aching soreness, she became acutely aware of his pain, and was devastated at the likelihood that she may have caused it. She pushed herself backwards on his legs before standing up and moving backwards, her back hitting his desk. She avoided his eyes, crossed her arms over her chest, and he knew what this was. He stood up, crossing the short distance to where she stood against the mahogany desk. She could see the light from the kitchen, illuminating a path to the doorway, and she almost took the opportunity, almost ran from him.

Despite her habit based need to abandon situations that brought her discomfort, that make her heart beat hard and fast in that familiar way that represented death and grief and mourning, she stopped, she waited.

Standing close to her, he could see her shaking. "No, Kate. Stop," he said, watching her try to catch her breath, as she hung her head. "I'm so sorry", she said, continuing to avoid the deep blue of his eyes.

He held her in place with his hands on her hips, closing his eyes and shaking his head. He moved his hands up to grab her arms, practically shaking her. "No, Kate. We can't do this anymore." She looked at him questioningly, but she knew exactly what he was talking about.

"I can let you walk away, if that's what you really want, Kate. I'll deal with that if you don't feel the same way I do. I mean, do you, Kate? Do you feel the way we push and pull at each other? You have to feel it." His tone was desperate.

"Of course I feel it." She whispered, touching his cheek.

Rick Continued, "I can also understand if all of this is too much for you, if it is too big to jump into." He gestured to his body as he spoke, and it broke her heart that he was equating this unfair disease with his beauty, his heart, his body, as if he were less than, as if he were a broken man. "I don't know what the future holds for me, so we could just… stand still together, if that's what you need, Kate. I can't, though; _we _can't keep pulling away from each other."

She nodded her head, and it was really all she could communicate in that moment.

It was blindingly frustrating for Rick, but he just kept holding her arms. He didn't push, and she didn't pull, but he had so many words, when it seemed that she had none.

Minutes had passed, and his grip on her had softened, her defensive posture had relaxed and they just stood. She finally picked her head up, her eyes level with his chest, and she moved into him. He felt like he had been holding his breath the entire time, and was finally able to release it, breathing as he wrapped his arms around her.

"Please don't go" she begged.

"I won't if you won't." He responded, meaning the words he said. He wasn't going anywhere.

She stood on the tips of her toes and reached up to touch his chin as she brought his lips to hers.

The shadows played over their bodies as they lay in his bed, facing each other. They had silently agreed that tonight was not the night to cross every line, but they both also relished the feeling of being so close together, and it didn't take much to convince Kate to stay with him, to let him hold her.

They explored each other with hands and mouths, pulling each other tight against their mutual arousal. They rolled over and around each other in Castle's massive bed, undressing each other but stopping reluctantly when they were down to just their underwear.

Their bodies connected, separated only by thin pieces of fabric that did little to hide the want they had for each other. He could feel her wetness as he moved to hold her, his thigh between her legs. He reveled at how she ground her core against him, reveled at how she let him awaken her.

When it all became too much, when the stimulation started to hurt, they backed away from each other. As they worked to keep their most sensitive areas apart, they continued to reach for one another for frantic kisses that gradually slowed as their eyes started to droop, exhausted from the day, exhausted from it all.

They rested against one another in the comforting quiet, listening to each other breathe. After long minutes in silence, Rick spoke.

"Kate, What are you afraid of?" he asked. It was a general question, but it pulled at him. He never wanted her to be afraid.

It took what felt like forever for her to answer, he felt like the moon had shifted in the time it took to hear her voice again.

"I'm so afraid of losing you, Rick. I always have been."

He could see her tears reflected in the lights of the city, and reached to wipe them away. She held his hand to her face, kissing his palm as she had in his office earlier. It had been the move that had broken the glacial pace of their movements, their stride, their truth.

"What are _you_ afraid of?" she asked, her voice thick with sleep and tears.

He moved closer to her, reaching around to pull her to him, so that their chests were touching. Their foreheads met naturally and he breathed a heavy sigh before pulling her swollen lips to his. They kissed slowly, gently, unhurriedly before he pulled his mouth away from hers again.

"I am so afraid of losing you," he responded finally, echoing her exact response to his question.

They curled up against each other before Rick pulled his luxurious comforter over them, leaving it to rest at their waists. His arm curled under her head as it lay against his chest, her hair leaving pulses of electricity behind as it moved across his upper body.

They absorbed precious stretches of sleep where their breaths slowed and their bodies settled into each other before the sky lightened into pinks and purples and he felt her being to stir. She had always been a morning person, rising automatically with the earliest appearance of the sun.

He woke with her as she pulled away from him and headed to his bathroom. He held his breath while she was gone, terrified that she would have woken up with a different perspective, one that kept her away from him. When the bathroom light switched off and she moved quickly to dive under the covers again, seeking out the warmth of his body, he nearly burst into tears with relief. She could hear the catch in his breath and turned to see his face. What she had done to this man broke her heart, and all she could do was keep her promises from now on.

She took his head in her hands, turning it on the pillow to face her. She kissed his lips before making her way around his face, then resting to look at him again.

"I'm here," she said, quietly but with an agreement behind it, a pledge.

They lay together as morning developed, staying awake before she had to leave for her shift. She had to stop at her apartment to grab a fresh outfit, or Javi and Kevin wouldn't let her hear the end of it. Kate and Castle laughed about what the boys would think before settling into what little quiet they had left of the morning.

"I need to tell Alexis," he said, suddenly, breaking the silence. "And Mother."

She looked at him, unsure of how to respond. She knew that he was right. He _should _tell them. Things were more uncertain than they were just a few short days ago, but what was certain was that he was a man who had recently, very recently been diagnosed with cancer. He was a man who was about to start chemotherapy, and his family needed to know that.

She nodded at him before responding. He was relieved to hear her voice. He needed to hear it. "Yeah, you probably should," she said. She didn't like the way her words sounded, like an acknowledgment that he was in an urgent situation, one that deserved his family's immediate attention. She didn't quite mean it like that, so she continued speaking. "I just mean that if you hadn't told me, if I had to wait while you went through the beginning of all of this, I would have been upset."

"What should I say?" he asked her, his hands running over her arms, warming them both.

She shook her head, smiling slightly. "I can't come at it from your side. I don't know what the right words are, and truth be told, I'm pretty adept at running away from the tough stuff, if you hadn't noticed," she began. "I can only tell you what Alexis may think, or feel. I only know, in the most hypothetical sense, what I would go through if my father came to me with news like this. And to be honest, I feel like Alexis has a better handle on emotional issues than I do, but she's going to be heartbroken. She's going to feel like her world is crashing in on her at the most inopportune time in her life. It's going to be really hard for her, but she loves you. She wants the best for you. Be there for her, and let her be there for you. I think she will be really good at that. "

His head moved up and down in agreement, still thinking. "She will be good at that. No matter what she does, she is amazing at it. I just… I just wish I could give her more than… this."

Kate shook her head at his self-deprecation. "No, Rick. No." She pulled his head towards hers, and he searched for her lips. She soothed him as her fingers stroked the back of his head, soft and slow.

When they relaxed in each other's arms again, her head against his shoulder, he turned so he could see her eyes and spoke. "I just have to ask, because I have been told that I have quite the imagination, but… is this real?"

She laughed with an intensity that tickled against his skin before rolling so that she was leaning on him, half her body covering his. She looked at his face with clear and open eyes, wide awake, before leaning down to kiss his chest, laughing again. When she came up to meet his eyes again, she finally spoke. "Rick, I really, really hope that this is real. And for the record, I think it is." Her voice was tinted with a smile, and it bore so deep into his heart that he thought he might cry, but he held it back, thinking he had done enough of that.

She kissed him as she pushed herself off of his bed, walking again towards the bathroom. He watched her walk away in just a bra and panties, and it felt like a dream. To confirm that it wasn't, he fumbled his way out of the bed, tripping on the comforter as it caught on his feet and ran to her before she made it behind the closed door.

She was smiling, having watched him nearly kill himself as he extricated himself from his bed. He took her by her shoulders, turning her towards him, his fingers touching as much of her warm skin as possible. He moved his hands up to her face and leaned in, tilting his head to kiss her at an idea angle. As their lips tangled, and their arms wrapped around each other, they moved into one another, as close as possible. His thought process started to work in incomplete sentences, like "so perfect… so hot", and when she finally pulled away, kissing the tip of his nose before turning and walking into the bathroom, he had to sit down to catch his breath.

"Yes", he decided. "This is real."

As Beckett came out of the bathroom with last night's clothes covering her body, she was surprised to see him dressed as well, in jeans and a blue flannel shirt. She loved when he wore flannel. It was so casual and youthful, and it reminded her of sitting on the swings with him.

She sat next to him on his bed, the contours of their bodies touching at their closeness.

"Why are you dressed?" she asked.

"I'm going to go up to the Hamptons today," he said.

It surprised her, and it felt like _he _was running, until he continued.

"I see Dr. Stanley tomorrow to get started with the whole chemo thing. I want my daughter to know before then."

Kate nodded. She understood completely, and simultaneously felt like she should go with him and that she absolutely shouldn't at the same time. This was family stuff, and she knew he would insist that she _was_ family, but no. This was good, this was right. He should go.

"Just for the day?" she asked.

"Yeah. I'll take the drive up, then come back to the city later tonight. I'm not sure what will happen in between. I haven't really done this before."

She reached for his hand, winding her fingers with his before setting the pair to rest at the immeasurable space between her leg and his. She wanted to tell him that he would be fine, that Alexis would be fine, but she couldn't make such promises. It would be unfair, it would be a lie. They couldn't start this new chapter with lies or broken promises. There had been far too much of that.

"Will you call me?" he asked. He sounded uncertain, as if it was a possessive thing to ask of her so early into… whatever they were.

She only paused for a moment, looking down at their hands. "As soon as I get out of work," she responded. She shut her eyes tightly, drawing strength before pushing the boundaries just a bit. "You can call me… whenever," she added. "If things with Alexis and your Mom don't go that well. Or if they go exceptionally well, you can call."

He smiled at her, bouncing their joined hands on his knee. "So I guess I'll be calling you, then," he confirmed, turning to look at her face, encouraging her to look back. When she did, he moved his lips to hers, teasing and tempting, pushing into each other's mouths with a tender ferocity that made him moan against her.

After pulling away, they both immediately missed the closeness, the immeasurable vicinity of their mouths and bodies. She glanced at the clock at the bedside table, muttering "shit!" as she saw how pressed for time she was. If traffic cooperated, she would just barely make it to her apartment and then to the precinct on time.

She stood up, reaching for his hand as she pulled him towards the office, then out into the main living space, and finally to the door. That door scared him, scared them both, as it had turning into a starting line for avoidance and escape. As they kissed softly, Kate's back touching the door handle, they both hoped that the door would become a metaphor for something better, something beautiful, something to _never _be afraid of.

As they stood in each other's arms, they thought about the days before, and the days ahead. They thought about one another, about family and love and changes. They thought about fear and about overcoming it.

Finally, Kate opened the front door, making her way out of his loft and into the hallway. The loss of each other was visceral, painful, but they both had faith in the bridges that had been crossed over the last few days. Before walking away, Kate touched his face before asking "Tomorrow?" He nodded, kissing her quickly before responding with their traditional "always", before watching her walk away.

As Rick packed a small overnight bag for his quick trip to the Hamptons, he remembered that his car was at the 12th. "Dammit," he thought before calling his driver to ask for a ride to the station. It was one of those moments that made him grateful for the privileges his life provided.

As he arrived at the precinct, he thanked his driver and stealthily palmed him a bill before walking directly up to the parking garage. He had taken the elevator, trying to be patient and safe, but when he arrived on the floor where his car was parked, his chest began to tighten. His breath was short and shallow, and the feeling of not being able to catch his breath was both scary and concerning. He sat against a railing in sight of his car, unable to cover the distance yet. He put his hand to his heart, feeling it pound, overtaking the unconscious practice of breathing.

Not wanting to be seen, by the team, but especially by Kate, motivated him to stumble over to his car, popping the door locks with his automatic key. He slid into the seat, placing his duffle bag on the passenger seat beside him and cranked the air conditioner. He sat with his head against the seat, struggling to regulate his breathing and slow his heart rate.

As the air conditioner dried the sweat on his face and encouraged him to relax, he was finally able to turn off his double vision, to catch his breath, to slow his heart down. This was a symptom, he knew it. He wondered why spending the night with Kate hadn't triggered any of these symptoms, and it all seemed like luck of the draw. He was glad he had gotten lucky in the bed beside her.

As he maneuvered through the Manhattan streets, he pushed the thoughts about fear and love and loss out of his head, knowing how easily distracted he was by such topics. Once he finally made his way on to route 495, however, and the traffic widened and became more sporadic, he let his mind spin. He debated picking up the phone and calling Kate immediately, just to hear her voice, but he resisted. He thought about the feel of her skin against his, and the difficulty he was still having about believing that they were… something.

He got lost in his thoughts about cancer and chemotherapy and hospitals, and was terrified at the idea of sharing it all with his daughter. He wished he was with Kate today at the 12th, whether it was doing paperwork or analyzing a gruesome body drop. He hated being alone, especially taking a two hour trip to tell his daughter that he was sick, had cancer, needed chemo. The admission was a lonely one, no matter who was there to hear it.

An hour into his drive, he felt his phone vibrate in his lap, and glanced down to see that it was a text message from Kate. The photo that was attached to her phone number was one of his favorites. She wore a radiant smile and her hair was thick and wavy. She didn't share smiles like that with just anyone, and he felt privileged to be able to see it, both in that image, and now in the flesh.

Eager to read her text, he pulled the car off the highway at a rest stop, pulling quickly into the first spot he saw. Once in park, he opened the text to read her message.

"_Castle, I'm still here. Good luck today. I'll talk to you later, KB."_

It was a short and simple text, but it spoke volumes. It reassured him and made him feel less alone. It was exactly what he needed in that moment.

He typed quickly with the keypad on his phone, responding to her message. When he was satisfied with his text, he looked it over quickly before pressing "send".

"_Kate- I'm right there with you, and I'm not going anywhere. Thank you for being exactly what I need. See you soon. Always- Rick."_

The way he loved her held him together as he made the drive to the Hamptons, and as he anticipated his appointment with Dr. Stanley the next day. There was so much to think about, and he was becoming anxious at the persistence of it all. He turned on the radio, and upon finding nothing but tinny, static sounding pop music, he switched to the AM frequency, which provided no better distractions.

He grabbed his overnight bag and headed to the front door, locking up his car with his keychain. He was both anxious and excited to see his daughter, his mother. Upon opening the front door, he initially saw and hear nobody, so he headed upstairs to his Mother's room, knocking softly. After several louder knocks, he peeked inside, seeing a freshly made bed and no sign of his mother. She must be out painting the town red, and a million other colors.

As he made his way back down the stairs, dropping his bag at the bottom, he heard the back door open, then quickly saw Alexis, recognizing her fiery locks as she turned the latch to the door. She looked surprised to see him. It was not like him to just show up without notice, but she walked over to him with her arms outstretched. She may have been surprised, but she was always happy to see him.

When they broke apart, he ran his hands playfully through her soft, crimson hair. "Hey Alexis," he said, as she kissed her father affectionately on the cheek, her red hair blanketing her shoulders as she moved She nodded as he said her name questioningly.

"Can we talk for a few minutes?" he asked. Her movements slowed as she nodded her head, a questioning look in her eyes. "Yeeaahhh," she said, slowly, confused.

Before Alexis had appeared at the back door, he had paced the length of the living room over and over, listening for the sound of her footsteps in her room above the living room. It was an excruciating wait, and he considered not telling her at all, trying to convince himself that now was not the time. What he was learning, however, was that there is never enough time, never enough moments. He owed this to her, even though he knew it would shatter her world.

He extended his hand towards the couch, and she moved past him to take a seat, turning to look at him as she walked. He sat across from her on the floor, his legs folded underneath him. His palms were sweaty, and as a blade of sun shining through the window cut between them, he was terrified of the uncertain look on her face.

"Dad, what's up? She insisted. "What is going on?"

His chest tightened and he struggled to breathe, trying so hard to get things under control. The last thing he wanted to do was attach a traumatic experience like a panic attack or a symptom of his illness to what he knew was going to one of those days that you just don't forget, as much for him as for her.

She reached for his forearm, shaking him hard as if to wake him up. "Dad!" she said, almost yelling.

Rick breathed outward, holding back the tears that threatened to cascade down his cheeks. He reached for her hair, brushing her flaming locks back with his fingers. He sighed heavily, looking at his daughter as he finally began to speak.

"Alexis," he began, struggling to continue, trying to buy her precious seconds before her world was turned upside down. "Alexis, sweetheart. I need to tell you, you need to know that I found out, um, in the last few days, I found out that I am sick."

She looked even more confused, and alarmed at the word "sick", and he was internally berating himself for choosing that word, for beating around the bush.

"What do you mean 'sick', Dad?" Alexis asked, anxiety in her voice.

"I have cancer, Alexis." And there it was. The cards had been laid on the table, the truth was out.

Alexis' eyes went wide, and he could instantaneously see tears about to fall. He crossed the distance to her and pulled her into his arms. She clung to him as she sobbed, emitting horrible choking noises as she cried. He hadn't heard that type of broken emotion from her since she was a little girl, climbing up onto him in his chair begging for comfort.

His knees shook as he held her from the floor, reaching up to where she was sitting. He felt like he might lose his balance, but he convinced himself that he wouldn't allow it. She needed him, god how she needed him right now.

He rocked his daughter in his arms until her tears subsided, her breathing became more regular. When he felt her begin to let go, he moved back himself, planting himself on the floor at her feet. He sat cross legged, maintaining the connection between their eyes. He knew that he was crying too, but made no effort to wipe his own tears. Instead, he reached up to his daughter's face and with his thumbs, stroking whatever wetness he could from her cheeks.

"Will you be okay?" she asked. Her voice was quiet and hoarse.

He took her hand, rubbing his fingers across her painted nails. "Alexis, there are a lot of things up in the air right now, but I don't plan on going _anywhere_. I've got a great doctor at Mount Sinai, and you remember Dr. Edwards' right? Dean? He's taking care of me too. I'm going to get treatment and then we are going to move on with our lives, babe."

He knew he painted an awfully optimistic picture, but he truly believed that he would survive this. He had too many people that needed him, that _he _needed. He had too much life that he refused to give up.

"When did you find out, Dad?" she asked.

He remembered how insistent Alexis had been about him going to the doctor, about getting checked out. He hadn't thought much about it, but he realized suddenly that without Alexis' encouragement, he would be clueless as to the disease attacking the cells in his body.

He smiled at Alexis, brushing her hair behind her ears. "I guess I should thank you for kicking my ass in to see Dr. Edwards, Lex. I wouldn't know any of it if it wasn't for you. I've only known for a couple of days, but I wanted to wait until it was certain before I worried you. I don't want you to worry, Alexis."

As her father sat on the floor looking up at her, she shook her head at him. "Dad, I'm _always _going to worry about you. I worry about you every day and I worry when I imagine you getting hurt shadowing Detective Beckett. I'll always worry."

He felt terrible that his selfishness had caused such turmoil in her life, forced her to think of things that an 18 year old shouldn't have to think about. And now this, this _cancer_… It just felt like the icing on an incredibly bitter cake.

"I'm so sorry, Alexis."

She ignored his apology. It wasn't needed, and she had more questions for him. "So, how long will you be sick for, Dad?" she asked.

It was such an uncertain question. He barely even _felt _sick yet, and aside from what he knew about the bump in his chest that was palpable evidence of the tumors in his body, and the symptomatic episodes he had grown accustomed to and terrified of, he felt very little connection to the disease he supposedly had. It was a strange dichotomy, between how he felt and his actual health.

"I just don't know, Lex," he said, shaking his head. "It does look like I'll be starting chemotherapy very soon. Within the next few days, I guess. From what I've heard, that part will feel a lot worse than any symptoms I might have."

Chemotherapy. It was one of those words that sends a jolt through your body. It was a word that spoke volumes about the reality of things, the seriousness of things.

"Will you be in the hospital?"

"I don't know, sweetie." He felt utterly useless, providing no comforting words for his daughter. He couldn't lie to her though. He just didn't know.

"I might be in the hospital sometimes. I don't really know how it all works yet," he continued, with an awkward chuckle.

"Who will take care of you? I mean when I'm at Columbia and Gram isn't around."

God his daughter was inquisitive. It was one of the things he loved most about her, but her tendency to cover all bases, to want every detail was exhausting him in this moment. She reminded him of Beckett.

"Kate, uh, Detective Beckett knows. She's been very supportive over the last few days, and I'm pretty confident that she will be here for all of us through this."

He had debated bringing Kate up in the conversation at all, knowing that his daughter had at least some level of resentment towards the detective. He knew how she felt and could understand why. There was very little he could say that would make sense to Alexis, so he planned to stand firm, to convince his daughter that Kate Beckett was someone he _needed._

Castle watched his daughter, and he could tell by the look in her eyes and the way she moved her nose, scrunching it up towards her forehead that she was actively thinking. Putting things together.

"So, the other morning," Alexis began. He froze. "When Detective Beckett was here the other day, she wasn't really here because her apartment had roaches, was she?"

Shit. He had been caught in another lie. By his daughter.

"No, you're right Alexis. Kate was there to take me to the doctor. I shouldn't have lied to you, but I wanted to protect you until I knew what the truth was."

Thankfully, Alexis seemed to accept his reasoning. It made sense for him to protect her, to shield her from whatever evils he could. She thought about Detective Beckett, and what she had done to him last year, and it scared her. It scared her to imagine her father sick and alone, his heart broken again. It may have even scared her more than his illness.

Alexis moved down to the floor to lean against her father. He was solid against her, and she knew he would never let anything happen to her. He had always been the father that she needed, even when her mother became not much more than a distant, occasional postcard. He had always put her first, and she was lucky because he was so much _fun._ She turned to hug him as tears began to sting her eyes again.

She didn't know what she would do without him. It would turn her world upside down. As Rick felt his daughter cry against his shoulder, he tightened his arms as much as he could, as if his body could shield her from all the darkness in the world. He wished with everything he had inside of him that he could be that shield for her.

Pulling away, he looked at Alexis' face. "Sorry to have brought your night to a crashing halt. Were you heading out?"

"I was," she responded, "but I can stay if you need me to."

"No, sweetheart. Don't stay on my account. I can't stay the night anyway, but I wanted to come to you, tell you directly."

Alexis reached for him again, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek. There was so much comfort for both of them, for father and daughter. He was happy in the moment, and thought of what Kate said, that Alexis would take the news better than he could have imagined. Kate was right.

As they pulled apart again, Rick moved to a kitchen chair near where they were standing, as his legs and back were beginning to protest as he sat on the floor. He looked around as he changed his spot, looking and listening for his mother. "Is Gram here?" he asked, looking at Alexis.

His daughter shook her head. "Nope. She is doing some marathon rehearsals for the play she is doing next week. I've barely seen her."

He had intended on telling Martha first, giving her the heads up before breaking the news to Alexis. He wanted her support, and he didn't want to deliver such information over the phone if he could avoid it. He couldn't stay, though, and the truth was that he didn't want to. He wanted to get back on the highway, back to Manhattan, back to Kate.

As Javier and Kevin briefed Beckett on the details of a murder case that had come into their hands while she had been gone with Castle, both men noticed her disconnect from the conversation. As they compared mug shots with context and alibi versus time of death, she asked them to repeat themselves as she got behind on her note taking. She knew her head wasn't in it, and she apologized to her teammates for her lack of effort.

Detective Ryan turned his chair around to comfortably straddle it, his arms leaning on the head rest. Esposito sat on the edge of her desk, and when she noticed that the two of them were looking at her, waiting for her to talk, she felt like she was in the middle of an inquisition. She looked between the two of them, wondering what they expected her to say. This was _work_, but she knew that their professional commitments had nothing to do with the conversation that was about to go down.

Thankfully, neither of them noticed the "side effects of chemotherapy" website that had been minimized to the bottom of her computer screen.

"How's Castle?" Javi asked, beginning the firing squad.

"Um… He's ok."

"Is he feeling ok?" asked Ryan.

"Yeah, he's ok," she repeated.

"So is he going for treatment? What's the prognosis?" continued Kevin. Javi shot him a look as Kevin cut him off from speaking.

"Um… he should be starting chemotherapy soon," answered Kate. "This week. And I don't know the prognosis. I don't think Castle does either. He's still got some tests out from the other day, but they should be back any time now." She answered as thoroughly as she could, assuming Castle wouldn't mind if she told the boys.

"Damn, chemo man? Where is he now?" asked Javier.

"He's in the Hamptons," Beckett began. "He's there to tell Alexis and Martha. He'll be back tonight, though."

"How are you, Beckett?" asked Ryan, pointedly. He knew she was struggling with this, and they all knew that her feelings for Castle ran so much deeper than she would ever let on, but they knew. Her brothers knew.

She paused, tilting her head at his question. It was a question filled with a million different interpretations and associations, and one that she could answer in just as many ways. When it came to Castle, she had mastered the ability to downplay her connection with him, even as the people closest to her watched as her heart swelled and then broke over the years.

Kate closed her eyes, rubbing them with her thumb and forefinger until she saw white spots and blotches dancing under her eyelids.

"I'm fine" is what she wanted to say. She wanted to insist that they push forward with this case, as if it was the most important thing to her right now. She knew that it should be, but it was nothing compared to the pull and the fear and the love that was swimming inside her, the dragging, irresistible urge to hold him and to make it all disappear.

She finally lifted her eyes back to Espo and Ryan, noticing that they hadn't taken their eyes off of her since she started avoiding, distancing herself from their questions.

She sighed as she tried to pull the truth together in her head, noticing Javier stand up at the sight of a single tear making its way down her cheek.

"It's ok, Javi," she said, motioning for him to sit back down. He nodded at her, reluctantly, as he waited for her to continue. He had rarely seen her cry before. This was big, for her clearly, but for all of them, as well. Castle was a part of their team, their family.

They were all startled by the buzzing vibration of her phone across her desk, and the boys watched her as she picked it up, sliding her fingers across the screen. It was a text from Castle, and she couldn't help but smile. He was safe, he was ok, and he would be on his way back to the city soon. She breathed a sigh of relief at the message.

_K.B.- You were right about Alexis. She is much better at this than us. Hitting the road soon. Tonight?_

Ryan broke the awkward silence that had fallen over the office as Beckett read her message. He exchanged glances with Javier, communicating that they had never seen their leader like this. All it took was a look to translate their worry.

"We've got this if you need to go, Beckett," offered Esposito. Kevin nodded in agreement.

Beckett shook her head with a softer look to her face, and a vague smile creeping across her lips as she set her phone down. It would be hours before Castle made it through traffic and back into the city, and his message had given her permission to work, to not let her team down.

She grabbed the manila case folder from Esposito's hands before heading to the dry erase board to put the facts together. Beckett had turned completely around at the hands of a text message from Castle, and her boys couldn't help but flash a knowing smile at each other, both realizing, both approving and both desperately wanting to hear from their brother Castle.

As the day wrapped up and the team managed to make significant progress with their case, Kate rode the elevator to the parking garage. As she locked her weapon in her trunk, she pulled her phone out, dialing Rick's number from memory.

With each ring she grew more anxious, imagining everything that could go wrong in the seconds between one ring and the next. When his voice finally broke the silence on the line, cheerfully answering "Hey Kate!" she felt as if she might melt. The relief was incredible, so much so that she lost her breath, lost the words to express how she was feeling.

"You there, Kate?" he asked when she didn't answer. She caught her breath while fighting back tears before finally responding.

"Yeah, Castle. I'm here." He could hear the smile in her voice, and it was the most therapeutic sound he would ever need. "How is Alexis?" she asked. "And your Mom?"

"Alexis is good. She's amazing, Kate." She could hear the pride in his voice and she was so happy that he had gotten a reprieve from all of this, that his daughter had given it to him.

"Can I see you?" he asked, hesitantly.

Kate laughed at the question, like it was the most ridiculous one he had ever asked. "Yes, please." She responded. "Are you back in the city?" she asked.

"I'm actually really close. I figured we could take my car or yours."

Confused, she looked down at the phone, then around her before looking in her rear view mirror to see Castle standing against his car, parked directly behind her. His phone was in his hands and he wore a jubilant smile on his face.

Overcome by the emotion of the events of the last few days, Kate pushed her driver's side door open so hard that it recoiled back towards her. "Fuck," she cursed, kicking the door back open and swinging her legs onto the ground. "Shit!" she exclaimed when her seatbelt pulled her back. As she struggled to get herself out of the car, she heard his steps approaching as he laughed at her efforts. He reached over her waist to push the seatbelt button, effectively releasing her from the trap she had gotten herself in.

As he moved back to pull his upper body out of her car, she grabbed his face and covered his lips with hers. He reached underneath her arms and anchored her to him as he removed her from her car, leaning into her and returning her kiss with all the fervor he could find. He took motivation from her intensity, pushing her against the back portion of the vehicle. They kissed until their breath began to give out, and then she reached for him, her mouth breathing warm and heavy against his skin.

He reached for her face, pulling her by the back of the neck so that their foreheads were affixed, so he could see her mouth.

"So your car or mine, Detective?" he asked again, smiling at her, desperate to tell her about his day.

She looked at his car, effectively blocking hers into the parking spot. "Looks like you are ready to go, Castle. Your car."

He nodded at her before planting a soft kiss to her forehead, which she leaned into before he walked towards his vehicle. Shaking, she quickly grabbed her equipment from her trunk and got into the passenger side of his car, immediately reaching for his hand.

As they pulled out of the parking garage, their focus was solely on one another. She bit her lip as she thought about the changes that had occurred in such a short period of time. This was going to work. He was going to be ok, and she was going to make sure of it.

As they disappeared around the corner, heading towards the precinct parking exit, Detectives Esposito and Ryan watched in open-mouthed disbelief as their friends drove away attached to each other. They argued over how much money was owed to whom, and for what bet, before realizing that they had all won.

The boys high-fived and shouted things like "Holy shit!" and "I fucking knew it!" triumphantly before making their way to their own cars.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**Summary: Castle and Beckett move forward in their relationship, but the afterglow is interrupted by real life. The rating changes in this chapter, to M. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own, nor am I affiliated with Castle, ABC, Disney, Andrew Marlowe or any related parties. No ownership or connection is intended or implied.**

**Author's Notes: Thank you to everyone who has gotten excited about this story, and for the amazing reviews. Thank you for reading, reviewing, following or "favorit-ing" (that's not a word) **_**Patient. **_

**I have been sitting on this chapter for several days, in a nearly completed state. I have read and re-read this chapter, pulled forward and pushed back, edited and re-edited. This was a difficult one to write, and as often happens, I was pulled in the direction that the story took **_**me**_**, and not the other way around. There is a fair share of angst in this chapter, but there is no way around that with this story.**

**I am not sure how far I will take this, but I can promise that I will focus on relationships and feelings as much as or more than the gritty details of Castle's situation. And once again, this will never become a "character death" fic. If anything, it is more about life than anything. Thanks for reading.**

"_So your car or mine, Detective?" he asked again, smiling at her, desperate to tell her about his day._

_She looked at his car, effectively blocking hers into the parking spot. "Looks like you are ready to go, Castle. Your car."_

_He nodded at her before planting a soft kiss to her forehead, which she leaned into before he walked towards his vehicle. Shaking, she quickly grabbed her equipment from her trunk and got into the passenger side of his car, immediately reaching for his hand._

_As they pulled out of the parking garage, their focus was solely on one another. She bit her lip as she thought about the changes that had occurred in such a short period of time. This was going to work. He was going to be ok, and she was going to make sure of it._

_As they disappeared around the corner, heading towards the precinct parking exit, Detectives Esposito and Ryan watched in open-mouthed disbelief as their friends drove away attached to each other. They argued over how much money was owed to whom, and for what bet, before realizing that they had all won. The boys high-fived and shouted things like "Holy shit!" and "I fucking knew it!" triumphantly before making their way to their own cars._

He grabbed her hand, resting it on his knee as he drove, a dizzy smile on his face. She smiled as she thought of all the concrete, all the brick and mortar that had been knocked to the ground in just a few short days. It felt good to be with him. It felt right, and she wasn't sure how to measure it when "just a few short days" was wrapped in the intensity of four life changing years. While her fears about losing him were still present, she also had a newfound sense of courage that convinced her that they would get through this, that they would live to see the future together. She didn't think she could do it without him, and she was finally allowing herself to admit the strength of those feelings, to be vulnerable in front of him, for him.

"So how was Alexis? And your Mom?" she asked, turning a bit in her seat to look at him.

"Well, Alexis was great," he responded, looking quickly at her with a smile before turning his eyes back to the road. "It was tough," he continued. "She had a lot of questions, a lot of fears. Oh, and she knows that your apartment doesn't have a roach problem."

"You're kidding me, Rick. How could your brilliant daughter _possibly _figure that one out?" Kate laughed sarcastically, shaking her head. After a beat, Kate asked with a concerned tone to her voice, "Was she upset about it? Upset that we lied?"

Rick shook his head quickly. "No, she understood. I think it was more amusing to her than anything. She got it though, Kate. She got _all _of it. She made it so easy to just open up to her, to hold her when she needed. She's my daughter, and I didn't screw it up!" Kate laughed at the smile in his voice.

Kate smiled, nodding as she looked out the window at the ever changing views of a drive through Manhattan. Alexis was truly an intelligent, sympathetic, caring young woman. She was a lot like her father, although Kate would probably admit that Alexis was working with a little bit extra in the maturity department. But despite that, Kate couldn't think of any man she knew who was a better father than Rick. It was a trait that she admired in him, that she found endearing.

"Oh, what about Martha?" Kate asked, suddenly remembering Rick's mother.

"Out of the house, as always. She is supposed to be back in the city this weekend. She's supervising the stage crew while they set up for the show that her class is performing. I asked Alexis not to tell her, but I hate putting her in that position. Once she knows, I'll feel a lot better about it." He sighed as he finished.

"I told the boys," Kate blurted. "The day of your tests, I told them. They've been sworn to secrecy, but I'm sorry if I crossed a line. I just…"

"Stop, Kate," he interrupted. He covered her hand with his own, curling his fingers into hers. "Those guys are like brothers to me, and I know that they are at least as important to you. You need them, and so do I. I'm glad they know."

Kate breathed a deep sigh of relief at his acceptance of her admission.

He nervously tapped his fingers along the steering wheel as he drove. He was sick of driving, edgy about not telling his mother what was going on, anxious about seeing his doctor tomorrow. He was also not quite calm and relaxed about the woman sitting next to him, the one with her hand on his knee, sliding her fingers unconsciously over the space they covered.

"Oh, shit!" she yelled, yanking him from his racing thoughts and pulling her hand from his leg. She apologized for scaring him, laughing quietly as she tucked a tuft of his hair behind his ear before continuing. "Would you mind running by my place just so I can grab a few outfits? I don't want to get caught without one like I did this morning. I was almost late for work."

He smiled as she spoke, and he was nodding his head before she had finished speaking. "Of course," he said, taking a few sharp turns to get on track to her apartment. He loved the idea of her staying with him, of her consciously planning to spend time with him, _nights _with him. He bit his lip, then thought of her and laughed at himself.

"What?" she asked, a shade of amusement to her voice. "What are you laughing at, Castle?"

He shook his head as they headed down her street, her apartment building in sight. "I wasn't laughing at you, I promise," he said, glancing in her direction. "I was laughing at myself. Pretty much laughing about how I can't stop thinking about you, even when you are sitting right here. I can't stop thinking about how everything somehow leads back to you."

He could see her staring at him in his peripheral vision, her mouth dropped a bit as he pulled into a spot on the street near her apartment. When the car was in park, he unbuckled his seat belt, quickly turning to look at her. He reached for hers as well, and she watched his hands as he pressed the button to release the belt, slowly moved it around her arm to free her.

As he moved his hand away from the seat belt, he slowly pulled his hand over her shoulder, and then stopped at her face, cradling her cheek in his palm. He moved towards her, watching her eyes as they followed his hand. She closed the distance, pulling him with an arm around his neck. Their lips met slowly, but the first touch felt like a beautiful crash as their mouths careened over one another, tongues playing and begging for mutual entrance.

They parted only when they became breathless, and when were practically wrestling with the center console. They leaned away from each other slowly, still clasped to one another by hands on faces and around necks, foreheads touching, bodies moving in rhythm as they caught their breath and breathed each other in. When the world that had shrunk to the inside of Castle's car stopped spinning, Kate pulled away from him, reaching for the door handle.

"Do… you… wanna come up?" she asked, an air of hesitance about her. Perhaps it was because she thought if they went in together, they might never make their way out again.

"Do you… want me to come up?" Classic Castle, he had answered a question with a question, bringing them to an absolutely minor but real impasse. She laughed, just as he had a few minutes prior before kissing him quickly and stepping out of the car. "I'll be right back. If you come up, I don't think we'll ever leave." She said, and he watched her as she crossed the street, jaywalking like a true New Yorker before finally making her way into her building.

Castle touched his lips with his fingers, feeling the swell left from kissing her. It didn't feel entirely real, and he could only attribute this change, these steps forward to her willingness to step out of her comfort zone, to give them a chance. She was finally catching up with him, thought the thought of losing her still existed, and probably always would.

Once her apartment door was closed behind her, Kate stood with her back against it, breathing as if she had just run her Central Park route, as if she had pushed through every mile until her calves were on fire and her feet felt like they were bleeding in her sneakers. She reached down to grab her knees in a posture that reminded her of needing to gather herself in a moment of vulnerability, of "needing a minute" in a back hallway.

She tried to think back to the moment when It became okay to cross that boundary, but then she couldn't really see it anymore, couldn't define it. Did it mean kissing him? No, she decided. That part was new and exciting and _amazing_, but it wasn't the line. It wasn't where one truth stopped and another took hold.

As she stood up and headed towards her bedroom, she got caught up in the little moments, could see the small but significant snapshots that revealed how much they loved each other, how much she _knew _she loved him. There were kisses, _amazing_ kisses, hands roaming or just his hand on her back or hers through his hair. There were stares and hands held and space shared as they walked together, shoulder to shoulder. There were fights that ended in "always", and crushing relief to see that the other had survived some insane situation against the most insurmountable of odds. The truth was that they usually survived together. It was a habit they had established years ago.

Kate shook her head, smiling at her distraction, and was brought back to the present. She quickly grabbed an overnight bag, stuffing it with a few outfits for work and some more casual pieces, more comfortable things that represented the way she felt about the place she was taking them to, about the man she was packing them for.

She turned one final time in her apartment, switching off lights before locking the door behind her and heading down to Rick.

He was on the phone by the time she reached the car, and she waited a moment by the door before he waved her in. She could hear his side of the conversation and could imagine the rest as she tossed her bag in his back seat.

"Yes, Mother. I understand, I should have stayed later, I should have waited for you but I had to be back in the city… I know... I understand that it doesn't make sense, which is why I wish you had just been there like you said you would… Because I wanted to see you and my daughter! Do I need an explanation for that?"

Kate moved a hand to his shoulders and down his back, rubbing soothing circles across where she could feel his tension, feeling him loosen in her hand. He turned to her and smiled thankfully before turning to listen to his mother again. Kate could hear the woman on the other end, loud, insistent, and clearly not accepting his excuses. He pushed at his eyes and gave in, replying "Yes, Mother. Yes, Mother. Yep. Okay. So sorry. So we'll see you in a few days? Great, love ya." He ended the call before collapsing his head back on the seat.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that," he said to Kate.

"No, Castle. I understand. I'm sorry I took so long."

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She nodded at him.

"Are you still with me?" he asked.

There was a time in their partnership, in their relationship, when she would feign annoyance at his nagging, at how needy he was. She understood it a bit better now, now that she could acknowledge how much she needed _him_, and how much she wanted him to need her.

"I'm with you Castle."

He pulled out into the street, heading back towards his loft. When he felt his stomach rumble, he thought of food, and figured that take out would be alright. It always seemed to be.

As they pulled into his garage, she waited for him as he grabbed her bag, leaving his for whenever he might need it. Perhaps for a night at her place.

They walked against each other, both tired, both thinking about tomorrow. When they got on the elevator, he was surprised when she turned into him, resting her head on his chest and wrapping her arms around his waist. He hooked his free arm back around her, and held a kiss to her hair. It was a relieving sensation, one that made him feel loved and relieved that this level of affection was _allowed. _Perhaps most importantly, it made him feel so much less alone.

As he pushed the door to his home open, he kicked his shoes off, letting them bounce off the wall. She took her heels off as well, but was a bit gentler with them, hooking them on her fingers as she followed him to his bedroom. She stopped at the doorway, placing her shoes just inside, resting against the door frame. She watched him as he peeled his jacket and shirt off before she started walking towards him. He noticed her as soon as she made her way to him, letting his undershirt slide from his fingers as he opened his arms to her.

She kissed his chest as she held onto him, his arms splayed wide across her back. She stood up on her tip-toes and he leaned down to meet her as their lips found one another. He could hear her sigh, an octave higher than her normal voice, demanding, vibrating in the back of his throat. As he held her, she felt as if she could fly, or that he would catch her if she tried and failed. It felt like want and need. It also felt freeing, like love.

The physical pull of their attraction seemed to take precedence over the emotional requisite, the demand to talk about their feelings. Instead of verbalizing it all in the moment, they both edited themselves. The word "love" hadn't come up since the first night they shared a bed, and it was murmured, mumbled, spoken on such a higher plane that neither of them were sure they had even really heard it.

He grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it up and over her head. "Is this ok?" he asked gently, his eyes never leaving hers. "Mmhmm," she nodded, biting her lip as she reached for the waist of his jeans, pulling him toward her. She felt him clench and hold his breath momentarily as she slid her fingers to his belt, undoing it before opening the button and the fly of his jeans. She slowed for a moment, his hands moving up and down her sides. "Is this ok?" she asked as she reached into his jeans and felt him, hard and ready against her hand. He groaned unconsciously, nodding his head before mumbling, "Yeah, yeah, that's ok, Kate."

They didn't know where they were going, but it felt desperate, and it didn't feel like they were going to stop. Neither of them realistically thought that they would be able to stop with just touching and kissing through clothed skin. When he reached into her pants and felt how hot and wet she was through her panties, when she nearly screamed instead of pushing him away, he had to keep going.

When she pulled his head to meet hers, working her tongue into his mouth she could feel his hands move shakily to her back, popping open the clasp of her bra. He pulled it off of her and broke their kiss so he could look at her. She was looking back at him with darkened eyes, breathing heavily. Yes, this was definitely okay.

As they walked backwards towards his bed, they worked together at shedding their remaining clothing, kicking at the pants and jeans that separated them completely. Once she lay completely on his bed, he grabbed the remaining leg of her ridiculously tight pants and pulled them off, leaving her laying before him in nothing but her panties.

Kate sat up, pulling him towards her until he stood between her thighs. She pulled his jeans completely off before pulling him on top of her.

Their kiss, which had started off aggressive had become slow and loving. Their lips melded around one another as if made to fit, and they only broke apart to breathe.

He held his body weight on his elbows, settling his center in between her thighs. Kate moaned as she ground against him, so little separating all of them, every bit of them. He felt her foot cross over his back, moving down and taking his boxers with it. He looked at her with a seriousness that had overtaken his eyes.

"Are you sure Kate? This is what you want?" he asked. He was almost at the threshold of no return, he had very little left in him to motivate him to stop this.

Kate shook her hear several times, her eyes closed and her breath coming rapidly. "I don't want to stop, Castle," she said, as if she were begging him. "I want this, I want you."

He sat up to kick his boxers off his feet and to tug at the waistband on her panties, hooking his fingers in the sides. He looked up at her as he pulled them off to see her watching him, the last bits of the setting sun reflecting in her eyes.

With nothing between them, he kissed his way up her body, taking his time until he couldn't any longer, until the sounds she was making and the way she was moving became too much. It became too much for her, too, as she pulled him back up to her mouth. Every sense was heightened as they felt their bodies move together. Normally, Kate scrutinized the reasons why things like this should be wrong, but as they held each other she couldn't stop thinking of reasons why this was _right_.

As she reached between them to take him in her hands and guide him inside her, they both moaned at the feeling. As he began to move inside her, Kate decided that this, too, was definitely okay.

She arched her back and pulled up to him, giving him room for a deeper stroke. Their timing was perfect, and they both moaned each other's names as their bodies connected, hands grasping to backs and necks, mouths kissing and nipping and tasting. She felt Castle's movements slow, and as his head burrowed into her neck, she reached for him. She ran her fingers through his hair, turning to kiss his face as he heated her skin with his breath.

Castle looked down at Kate as he began to move again, catching his rhythm again. Her hand remained at the back of her neck as he watched her, listening to how their bodies moved together. Her head fell back against the pillow and she reached to her side to fist the sheets in her fingers, closing her eyes as his mouth moved to take hers again.

Their movements became sloppy, their kisses were wet and erratic and she was so close. The writer in him wanted them to come together, to finish together, but watching her fly apart beneath him was worth being a few seconds behind. As she rode the waves of her orgasm, he felt her collapse beneath him, her muscles turning to putty. "You okay?" he asked, as he started to feel a warmth in his belly that quickly intensified.

She nodded at him, her teeth biting the smile teasing her bottom lip. She pushed towards him one more time and could feel him lose himself within her. He cried out incoherently before collapsing on top of her, resting his weight on his quivering elbows.

"It's okay," she said as she reached for his head again, anchoring their faces to one another. "Let go. I can handle you, Castle."

"I don't want to crush you," he responded, and as he began to roll off of her, she held him in place with her legs wrapped around his waist. "I've got you," she said.

Castle kissed her passionately, slowly again. It felt like he was trying to savor every second. She could feel him relax against her, his hands sliding up to frame her face against the pillows, their legs twisting, fitting like a puzzle. She wrapped her arms around his neck as they kissed, until finally their breathing slowed, and their limbs began to move again. She let him go, allowing him to take her with him so that their bodies faced one another.

He touched her face, running his fingers across her forehead and cheeks, her nose and her lips. He had a near perfect memory when it came to her, but he was learning so much more by being able to experience her in the flesh. Even when he started keeping a tally of her characteristics, the ones that made him lose his breath, he never imagined all the ones he had missed.

She hadn't expected to fall into bed with him this late afternoon, especially since they had agreed to take things a bit slowly. She hadn't expected to _want _him so much, but he had been surprising her since the day they met, and he made her want to keep her guard down for him.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked, his hands reaching to comb through her hair.

She laughed a bit, maybe embarrassed, maybe self-conscious, although she knew she didn't have cause for either of those feelings. Her hands moved to his chest, slowly tracing circles and figure eights with her fingers.

"I was just thinking about us. I was thinking about how I stopped expecting this to happen, how I tried so hard to hide from this. I wasted so much of our time." Tears stung the corners of Kate's eyes, and he reached for her before any could fall. He leaned up a bit to hold her face, to look down at her before he spoke.

"No, Kate. I wouldn't change a thing. Nothing. I wouldn't do anything differently if it meant that I could hold you like this, now."

Their bodies wrapped around each other, holding on with arms and legs, touching with fingers and lips. As they quieted, Kate reveled in the feeling of his fingers stroking her arm and her side. It was like an electric pulse that shot straight to her most sensitive parts. As the remainder of the sun was replaced by the lights of the city, Castle sat up to look at her, her breaths were regular and her eyes were closed. She didn't sleep nearly as much as she should, so he took pride in being able to provide enough safety that allowed her to drift off.

Castle was starving, hadn't eaten all day. He tried to gently disentangle his body from hers without waking her, throwing on a pair of Ninja Turtle boxer shorts and a plain, black hoody. He took note of the quiet in the loft as he entered the living area. He was often alone, either in his office or taking an XBOX break. She made him always want to be in her vicinity, to hold her, to laugh with her. He would let her sleep for as long as she needed, but he couldn't wait until she reached for him again.

He ordered enough Chinese food for two, picking her favorites and then sitting on the couch to wait, remote in hand. As he clicked through the channels, he didn't see her make her way into the living room, wearing sweat pants and a tank top. She looked tired and beautiful as she sat down close to him on the couch, winding her arm through his and resting her head on his shoulder.

"You hungry?" he asked. "Mmm. Yeah, famished." She replied.

"I've got Chinese on the way. Should be here any minute. I got your favorites," he added, smiling like a little boy.

Kate and Rick sat at the breakfast bar to eat, and he watched her perk up after getting some calories into her body. Once she finished eating, she walked around to drop her plate in the sink, before coming back to Rick, dropping a kiss at his hairline from behind. He turned in the chair and gently held her by her hips, looking up at her reverently. "So are we really gonna take a shot at this, Kate?"

She bent down to kiss him, her hand at his chin. She pulled away just enough to answer him, their lips almost grazing. "Umm," she looked like she was thinking, considering. He held his breath for the quickest of instants before she spoke against his lips. "I really think we should," she said, and they left his plate behind when they moved back to the bedroom.

Kate woke with a start, and searched for his warmth in the bed next to her. She quickly brought into focus his silhouette, framed and obscured by the shadows that played on his wall by the lights of the city. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his head bent downward. She started to pull herself towards him in the tangle of the sheets, wanted to wrap her arms around his shoulders and breathe him in at the crook of his neck. The closer she got, however, the more she could hear him as he struggled to catch his breath, his back lurching inward at the strength of which he was trying to get oxygen into his lungs. She quickly moved to him, turning his head to face her. "Can you breathe, Castle?" she asked, frantically. "A little," he answered. "My chest burns."

Kate wrapped her legs around him from behind, rubbing soft and gentle circles around his back. His skin was sweaty beneath her hands, and when she reached around to touch her lips to his forehead, she was certain that he had a fever.

His breathing was still rough, a struggle for him, she could tell. She rubbed the hairs that had stuck to his forehead with perspiration away before touching her lips to the same spot, just listening to him as his half breaths started to turn into panic, and she knew exactly what _that _felt like.

"Rick," she whispered, her lips at his ears. "I would really like to take you to the hospital." She tried to be gentle, non-coersive in her approach, but the truth was that she wasn't taking "no" for an answer.

Before he could protest, Kate pulled herself out of his bed and over to her duffel, digging through it for something comfortable as well as something for work, should she get stuck in that predicament again. Castle watched her in the dim light that crisscrossed around his room, and as she opened his drawers to quickly pick something out for him. She threw a hooded sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants along with his boxers next to him on his bed and gestured towards them.

"How is your chest," she asked, standing at the end of his bed.

"It's better. It's tight, but it's better."

Kate nodded her head in approval before gesturing to his clothes once again and throwing a t-shirt on the top of the pile in case he was too hot for the sweatshirt.

He was too tired to argue, and too afraid that she was absolutely right, that going to the hospital right now was a _good_ idea. He grabbed the sweatpants, clumsily pulling them up to his waist before standing up to pull his sweatshirt over his head.

"Where are your keys, Castle?" she asked. He flicked his chin towards the counter, where she found his set and grabbed it. She was driving, and he didn't bother trying to question her. She watched him as he walked in front of her towards the doorway, and she took his hand as he reached for it. Her heart was racing and she could feel the adrenaline pumping through her body, but if there was ever a time for her to hold it together, it was now. She would not lose it now. Once they reached the elevator, she hooked her arm through his, supporting him. She looked up at his face and noted how pale, how ashen he had become. "Are you still with me, Castle?" she asked him, a twinge of anxiety to her voice. "Mm-hmm. I'm here."

Tears threatened to surge down her face, but she fought them, clenching her jaw and her fists. She held onto him as they made their way to his car, willing him to move faster. He was shuffling, like a zombie, he would say, but she knew how tired he was. Crossing the threshold into the garage, she pointed to a bench near the elevators, leaning down to him as he sat, saying "Don't move, Castle. I'm going to get the car."

She sprinted to his car, looking quickly at the key ring to see if the Ferrari key was on it. It would be faster. She quickly scanned the garage until she saw the sports car, running again as if taking part in a relay race. She made it finally to the Ferrari, getting in and starting it up immediately. As she drove to the elevator where she had left Castle, the tires screeched under her turns. When she saw him again, she slammed the car in park without down shifting, and the car bucked, throwing her a bit before she could open the door.

His hands were in the pockets at the front of his sweatshirt, and he leaned forward before moving to stand up. Kate was by his side before he could move, kneeling in front of him, lifting his head to look in his eyes. "You okay, Castle? She asked. He nodded before rising to his feet and climbing into the passenger seat.

She reached across the car to put her hand to his head again. He still felt clammy and warm. He walked fine, but he was pale, he seemed to be alert but sluggish from his fever. She fought with herself as she put the sports car through its paces, probably going a little faster than necessary. In truth, her speed and recklessness had as much to do with satisfying her own anxiety as it did with Castle's condition. When she slid into the emergency entrance at Mount Sinai she stopped and turned to him, asking "Can you walk or do you want to wait here while I park. I'll grab you a wheelchair."

He shook his head, pointing to the lot. "No, Kate. I can walk. I'm good."

She parked as close to the entrance as possible, and ran over to his side as soon as she got out. He was already standing, looking better than he had ten minutes earlier. She breathed a bit deeper. They walked together towards the building and as they approached the sliding ER doors, he stopped and turned to her, opening his mouth to speak.

"In case things get really shitty later, I just wanted to tell you that last night was amazing."

She grabbed his midsection, standing up on her toes to kiss him, chaste but slow, a hand moving up to his cheek.

She couldn't help but smile as she simultaneously hid her tears from him, her head on his chest. "Yep, Castle," she sighed. "Last night was pretty amazing. Top ten, definitely," she smirked at him.

He worked his face into a mock look of hurt before she patted his chest as she pulled away, grabbing his hand as they continued through the emergency room doors.

As they filled out his triage paperwork, a clipboard and pen on her lap, she knew just as many answers as he did. It was a testament to how much they had really gone through over the course of four years, to how well they knew each other. After Castle was seen by the triage nurse and then the billing department, who certainly loved patients like Castle, they sat in the waiting room. They talked intermittently, they held each other's hands, she chewed her fingernails, and then he put his head on her shoulder, and she stilled. She felt him relax into her, and she put her own head against his, slowly drifting to sleep.

"Richard Castle! Richard Castle!?"

His name was called twice before she startled awake, quickly rubbing her eyes as she stood. The fall of his head woke him up, and she reached for his hands despite his freshly awakened confusion. "It's your turn, Rick," she said gently. "Come on."

They were led down maze like corridors, surrounded by the sounds and the sights of the sick. It was a chaotic atmosphere, and it reminded her vaguely of the 12th, if only for its comparable hustle and bustle. She didn't think she could work in a place like this, though hers likely saw just as much death and darkness.

He was brought to a private room which suddenly made Kate feel grateful for doors that closed and real walls. The light was harsh, florescent, and it buzzed above their heads. The nurse handed him a hospital gown, telling him to change down to his underwear. She pulled a chair next to the bed for Kate before turning to leave the room.

"Hang tight, Mr. Castle. Someone will be in to see you shortly," she smiled politely as she turned to leave the room. On her way out, she swiveled her head back in his direction. "My name is Jude, by the way. I'll be your nurse, so please let me know if you need anything."

"Wait!" Castle called as she turned to leave the room. "Did you just say your name was '_Jude'?" _he asked, incredulous.

The girl laughed, tossing her head back at his question. "Yes sir, my name is Jude."

"That is probably the coolest name I have ever heard. Did your parents name you after-"

Jude cut him off, "Hey Jude by The Beatles? Oh yeah. My parents live and breathe The Beatles. My middle name is "McCartney!"

"No way!" Castle said, while Kate smiled at him in this moment, watching him, how excited and interested and impressed he was. "Are you serious?"

The girl laughed again, "Nah, I'm just joking. It stops at 'Jude'",

She turned away again, a second attempt at leaving the room. She pulled the heavy door closed as she left them alone in the room.

Castle sat down on the bed, pulling the sweatshirt over his head as Kate watched from behind her chair, her hands leaning on the headrest. Once he was shirtless, he untied the knot in his sweatpants and pulled them down, kicking them off as they bunched at his feet. He sat in his boxer shorts, looking bare and small, and Kate made her way to him, grabbing the gown and pulling his arms through it, tying it in the back. Her hands lingered at the knot she had tied, his skin warm against her fingers.

"Lay down, Castle," she said, moving the head of the bed up so he wasn't lying flat on his back. He watched her as she grabbed the thin blanket at his feet and pulled it up to his chest.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, putting her hand to his forehead. He still felt hot, and sweaty. He felt feverish.

"I'm okay," he answered quickly, rubbing his fingers against his eyes. His chest still felt tight, but it was better. He could breathe. The worst of it was the realization that for the first time, he felt truly ill. He had been stamped with the word "cancer" less than a week ago, and had gotten used to ignoring the pain in his chest that had come and gone, sometimes with more intensity than others. Sitting in this hospital bed, however, under a starchy blanket and wrapped in a humiliating hospital gown, he desperately tried to avoid the gaze of the woman in the room with him. He felt like less than she deserved, less of a man. He hadn't realized that a frustrated tear had escaped his eyes until he felt her grab his hand, squeezing it before bringing it to her lips, allowing her closed lips to rest there. He bit his lip to stop the tears from falling, from betraying his emotions.

She watched his eyes as they welled up with tears, watched him as he looked wherever he could to avoid looking back at her. When she let go of his hand, he felt her move over him, leaning her head down to his, holding his face in her hands. His self-control went out the window and he could feel the wetness on his face before he even knew they had fallen. She kissed his cheeks, his eyes, his chin, everywhere the tears had fallen before covering his mouth with hers. She kissed him hard, as if she were trying to send a message to him, and when he felt the warm, salty liquid fall from her eyes, he reached for her face in return, pulling her closer to him.

They were both startled by the knock on the door, pulling away from each other quickly, catching their breath. His nurse, Jude made her way back into the room, pushing a tray in front of her.

"Sorry to interrupt, guys," she said casually. "I'm just going to take your temperature and get an IV started so that I can take your blood, and that way you'll have it there in case the doctor wants to give you any medication or fluids."

Castle nodded at the girl. She couldn't have been a day older than 25, and he wondered about her story. He wondered about what had brought her here, to this profession, to the city, to the night shift. She approached him with a thermometer attached to a machine that reminded Castle of a 1980's cell phone. He had one, he remembered. The nurse watched the digital readout on the thermometer, removing it from his mouth quickly. "101.2. Got a little bit of a fever going on there, Mr. Castle."

Castle nodded, "Yeah, I woke up with it."

He watched her prep several vials with his name and then hook a bag of saline on the I.V. pole. She moved quickly through the process, as if she had done it a million times before. She probably had.

She bent his left arm open and began fingering the inside of his elbow, looking for a vein. She turned back to her tray, tearing an alcohol pad open before moving back to his arm. The smell was sharp, and when she wiped his arm with the cold swab, he flinched at the sensation. She reached for the IV catheter. It was all plastic and rubber and tubing with a needle hidden beneath it all and his heart began to race. He wasn't afraid of needles, not any more than the average person, but it was never a fun experience, especially now.

Kate watched just as intently, clenching her fists as if she were the one about to be stuck. Her eyes moved from the nurse to the IV and back to him again, and she could feel her face begin to heat up with anxiety.

"Just a little pinch, "Jude said as she positioned herself over his arm again. With a quick click and a pop, and an instantaneous sting, the IV had been inserted. "You ok?" she asked. He nodded at her and could see out of his peripheral vision that Kate had nodded as well.

She attached the tubing from the IV to the saline bag before throwing her gloves and the non-sterile equipment into the red biohazard container. As she pushed the cart towards the door, she turned towards them. "You are a patient of Dr. Stanley's, right?"

He nodded at her again. Kate watched him, and thought to herself that the only time he didn't speak is when he is scared. It broke her heart to see such fear in him, and it worried her that she felt it too.

"Dr. Stanley should be in sometime within the next couple of hours. In the meantime, you will see Dr. Stoddard. He's a great doctor, and I'm sure that between him and Dr. Stanley, we should be able to get things moving for you."

She wasn't necessarily cheerful, but her voice had an air of support and optimism that comforted him.

"I was supposed to see Dr. Stanley this afternoon anyway. Chemotherapy 101 appointment, I guess."

The nurse chuckled. "Well, I guess you are early for your appointment, then. Dr. Stanley is on call, and he's already been notified that you are here. You've got nothing to worry about right now, Mr. Castle. I know the ER sucks, and we aren't the timeliest people in the world, but we'll do the best we can to give you some answers."

She was sincere, honest, unrushed, and professional. He would have to remember to fill out a comment card or something. Whatever it is that you are supposed to do when you get an efficient cancer nurse.

As she opened the door to leave the room, she turned towards him once more, flitting her eyes to Kate and back to Castle. "I just want to say that I'm really sorry about what you are going through right now. It's a tough thing to go through. Some roads are straight and some wind through some nasty shit before you make your way to the end. You'll make it."

When they were alone again, Kate leaned her elbows on his bed, her head hanging above them. When she lifted her head to look at Castle again, she could see that his eyes were closed, and his head had shifted to the side a bit. When he let out a small snore, she smiled as she moved her chair as close to the bed as she could. She put her head down on the ineffective mattress and reached her hand out to his chest, wanting to feel him while she shut her eyes too.

"Kate, get into bed," Castle said, tugging at her hand. She said nothing as she pushed her chair back and climbed into the bed. She turned onto her side and put her hand back on his chest, her eyes searching his. He moved his arm around her shoulders so she could lay on his chest, the closer the better.

They fell asleep, despite the harsh lighting, despite his IV, despite being on the most uncomfortable bed ever produced, they fell asleep.

They were both startled awake by the sudden sound of voices, and when they both awoke enough to remember where they were, they saw two men. One was familiar. It was Dr. Stanley. Castle assumed the other one was Dr. Stoddard. Either they had been out for quite a long time or Dr. Stanley had arrived early.

"Good morning, Mr. Castle," Dr. Stanley said as Kate tried and failed at inconspicuously getting herself off of Castle's bed. He shook Castle's hand, then Kate's. He pulled a stool over in that casual doctor way, almost riding it across the floor.

"So tell me what brought you here this morning, Mr. Castle?" The doctor flipped through Castle's chart as he spoke.

"I woke up with this tightness in my chest. It was hard to breathe. I've had a fever since, as well."

Dr. Stanley nodded. "Can you show me where the tightness was?"

Castle pointed to the middle to right side of his upper chest.

"Okay, Mr. Castle," Dr. Stanley said, before moving up to feel Castle's chest.

He moved back to the stool and opened the chart again, stopping to read for a moment. Kate felt like her body was going into fight or flight mode, her anxiety feeling like a primal surge.

"Mr. Cas-," Dr. Stanley started, before Castle cut him off, his free hand outstretched and minor annoyance in his voice. "Can you just call me Rick, please?"

The doctor looked down, looked surprised. "Uh, I apologize. So, Rick then," he corrected himself before continuing. "Your test results confirm that you have Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma. This is a cancer of the immune system, specifically involving white blood cells."

He stopped for a moment, looking up at his patient.

Castle was stone cold, his hand wrapped in Beckett's. Things suddenly felt much more real than they had before, and he felt like he was going to be sick. He knew what today was, they both did but the reality of it was so much daunting than he could have ever imagined.

"Rick, this is a stage 2 diagnosis, meaning that you have evidence of the disease in several areas of your chest."

Rick finally spoke, loud and angry and stumbling over his words. "So, what, I mean, what does that mean? Stage 2 out of how many? So what happens now, and I mean after you stop playing "Grey's Anatomy" and decide to tell me what the fuck is going on?"

He had pulled his hand from Beckett's as he yelled at the doctor. She watched him, terribly sad because she knew that his anger was the result of fear. Fear she could do nothing about, and it killed her. Richard Castle did not get angry unless he was deathly afraid that something he loved would be taken from him.

Castle felt guilty almost immediately, apologizing to the doctor. Dr. Stanley had seen his fair share of it, and it certainly was not uncommon to see someone go through emotions like these when learning of a diagnosis. The man smiled politely and shook his head, telling Castle that it was okay.

"So what now?" Castle asked again, slowed down, rational.

Kate grabbed his hand again, and he squeezed it before giving her a quick, forced smile.

"Well Rick, let me start off by saying that this is not a death sentence by any means. I have seen this disease in far more advanced stages than yours is. You are reasonably healthy, you are young, and we found this early enough. Now, you _are _symptomatic, so I would like to start treatment immediately."

"Immediately, as in when?" asked Kate, opening her mouth and surprising both men.

Dr. Stanley looked at Rick, then back at Kate. "I would like to start with chemotherapy today. This morning. We'll have some paperwork for you to fill out, and then we'll move you to oncology. We'll walk you through everything before we start the first treatment."

Kate felt like she had gotten the wind knocked out of her, and Castle felt like he could see time ripping off the walls, he always thought there would be more time, he never thought that this would be real.

He wanted to fight, wanted to protest, wanted to deny the truth, but instead he just nodded, conceding. "Fine. I just need to call my daughter. And my mother."

Kate stood up, pushing his hair back and kissing his temple. He wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her close as he felt her tears on his face.

**A/N: Thanks again for reading, for keeping up with this story, for your support and your reviews.**


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

**Disclaimer: I do not own or claim ownership, nor am I affiliated with Castle, ABC, Disney, and Andrew Marlowe. **

**Summary: Castle begins his first chemotherapy cycle, Martha and Alexis return from The Hampton's, and Kate finds it difficult to work while Castle is ill.**

**Author's Notes: Thank you for your patience with this one. There were a lot of elements I wanted to touch upon and include, and it took me far longer than I would have liked… I am incredibly grateful for the reviews, follows, and favorites I have received for this story, and hope that you continue to enjoy it.**

**To answer a few questions posed by readers: **

**-Castle's fever is a symptom of his illness, discussed in further depth in this chapter.**

**-As far as "memory loss" goes, while such a symptom does accompany chemotherapy occasionally, I will not be touching upon it in this story. Even though I will write AU stories, I, by policy, will not write a character's personality in a way that changes or alters the inherent personality established in the canon universe.**

"_So what now?" Castle asked again, slowed down, rational. _

_Kate grabbed his hand again, and he squeezed it before giving her a quick, forced smile._

"_Well Rick, let me start off by saying that this is not a death sentence by any means. I have seen this disease in far more advanced stages than yours is. You are reasonably healthy, you are young, and we found this early enough. Now, you are symptomatic, so I would like to start treatment immediately."_

"_Immediately, as in when?" asked Kate, opening her mouth and surprising both men._

_Dr. Stanley looked at Rick, then back at Kate. "I would like to start with chemotherapy today. This morning."_

_Kate felt like she had gotten the wind knocked out of her, and Castle felt like he could see time ripping off the walls, he always thought there would be more time._

_He wanted to fight, wanted to protest, wanted to deny the truth, but instead he just nodded. "Fine. I just need to call my daughter. And my mother."_

_Kate stood up, pushing his hair back and kissing his temple. He wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her close as he felt her tears on his face._

Kate watched him as he frantically searched for his cell phone before she handed hers to him. As he began to dial, she asked him if he wanted her to leave the room, if he needed some privacy.

He pulled his fingers away from the keypad and looked up at her, his eyes puzzled and his head cocked to the side. "No, Kate. No, don't ever think, well unless _you _want to go, don't ever think I don't want you with me. I kinda need you with me right now," he said.

She nodded at him before sitting down next to him in his bed, the floor making a swishing sound under her swinging feet. He continued to dial, reaching for her hand and squeezing tightly. She watched his face as she heard the shrill tone of the ringer on the other end. She saw nervousness and fear and anxiety paint his eyes, and she squeezed him back, letting him know that she was right there, letting him know that she was with him.

"Alexis? Hey sweetheart. How's everything going? Enjoying yourself?... That's great, really great," he vamped before he removed the phone from his ear and rested it on his chest. He looked up at the tiled ceiling, catching his breath as his heart started to beat faster with adrenaline.

"Lex, is Gram there?" he asked.

"Yep, she's here. She's outside monopolizing the sun," Alexis joked.

He breathed deeply again, his thumb nail unconsciously tracing the lines of Kate's palm. "Alexis," he began, "Do you think you could get your grandmother for me?"

His daughter paused for a moment, waiting for more. She knew there was more, and she braced for it.

"What's wrong, Dad?" Alexis asked, her voice even and dark.

"Sweetheart, I need you to know that I am at Mount Sinai Hospital. I'm here with Kate," he began before she cut him off.

"The hospital?! Dad, what happened?" Rick fought back the tears as he listened to the increasing level of fear in his daughter's voice. He did everything he could to protect her, but there was little he could do to shield her from this. He couldn't give her anything less than the truth.

"Alexis, I woke up last night short of breath, and I came here as a precaution. I saw my doctor a few minutes ago. Um, my oncologist. Do you remember when I told you about him? He wants me to start chemotherapy today, sweetie. I need you to know that and to be strong, and I need you to give your grandmother the phone."

He could hear the catch in her breath, the poorly disguised sniffles, and he knew his daughter was crying. He hated it when she cried. He hated it even more when he couldn't be there to hug it all out of her.

"Dad, I'm bringing Gram the phone, but we are coming home. We have to come home." Her voice was shaky but assertive, and he didn't try to argue. Before he could speak again, he heard the phone being handed over to Martha.

"Richard! How lovely to hear from you! I feel like it's been _days_! I also feel like you've been hiding from me, my dear." Her voice went from cheerful to accusatory, but the flamboyance remained. She was right, though, and he nodded his head at the phone. He _had_ been hiding, and it wasn't fair.

"Mother, I'm at Mount Sinai," he said, straight to the point. He felt terrible that he had to do it this way, but he thought he would have had more time. He thought he would have the time to pick out the perfect words, but he was learning quickly that the words didn't matter all that much in a situation like this.

Silence filled the line, and he knew she was waiting for him to continue. She didn't speak, but he could hear the vibrato in her breath.

"Mother, I'm really, really sorry that I didn't tell you this sooner."

"Richard, what are you talking about? What did you _not _tell me?" Her voice was grim. It was a tone he rarely heard from her, and if anything was going to make this more difficult for him, it was _that._

"Mother. Mother, I'm at Mount Sinai," he said again. "I'm waiting for my doctor, my… oncologist." The pause was murderously long, for all of them, including Kate. She didn't bother to wipe the tears from her eyes as she listened to him tell his mother the worst news she could possibly hear, and even though Kate already knew, his words shook her.

"I have cancer, Mother," he said finally.

He closed his eyes again, and he counted the seconds of silence as they ripped through him.

"Richard." She simply said, quietly reciting his name as if to replace the nightmare he had just planted in her. Her son, her talented, beautiful son, her only child, the father of her amazing granddaughter, had cancer. "Richard, are you alone?" she continued.

He hated the serious tone in her voice. Martha Rodgers had always been the life of every party, the comic relief, the boisterous ice breaker, and the brightest light in any room she entered. He rarely heard fear in her voice, but right now it was soaked with grief.

"No, Mother. Kate is here," he answered. He would have to explain that one too, but not like this.

"Good, Richard. I'm glad," Martha said, her relief sounding forced.

Castle heard a commotion in the background, the muted voices of his mother and daughter. "Mother?" he asked, waiting for her to respond.

"Yes, Richard, I'm here. We're leaving. We are on our way back to the city, darling." Never had anyone dragged Martha away from the Hamptons so quickly and easily, it was her safe place, her escape, but she couldn't get out of there fast enough.

Martha was as independent as a woman of her age could get. She was active and healthy, had friends around the world, and was loved by many for her colorful and extravagant personality. When it came down to it, however, there was no one more important to her than her son and her granddaughter. It made the glitz and lights and costumes seem so dull, grey, and insignificant when compared to her little family.

"Alright, Mother. I'll see you in a bit." He began to pull the phone from his ear when he heard a tinny voice yelling his name, muted by the cell phone speaker. He put the earpiece to his head again, answering her calls. "Yes, Mother?"

"Richard, my dear son, give 'em hell and we'll be there as soon as we can. Please tell Detective Beckett that Alexis and I are so thankful for her being there."

He smiled slightly before speaking again, "I certainly will Mother. I'll see you later."

As he slid his finger across the screen of the iPhone to end the call, he leaned his head back against the bed, eyes closed as he blindly reached to give her back her phone.

"That didn't sound _so _bad, Castle," offered Kate, her voice pulling him from his quick venture into self pity. He nodded, looking at her. "No, you're right. It definitely could have been worse. You know my mother. She method acts her way through life, and sometimes it crosses over into dangerous dramatic territory, overlapping the emotions of the characters she plays with her own. She must be playing someone who is really proficient at holding themselves together," said Rick.

Kate smiled at him, bending down to cover his lips with hers, shivering as he moved his hand to the back of her neck. It wasn't the most mind-blowing of kisses, but it was slow and sweet and full of hope. Truthfully, those kisses were quickly becoming her favorites.

"How are you feeling?" Kate asked as she pulled away from him, her face remaining inches from his. She molded her palm to the curve of his chin, moving her thumb back and forth as he leaned into her.

"If you want an objective answer, you are going to have to ask me those types of questions _before _you kiss me like that, Detective Beckett," he answered, making her heart swell with both love and fear simultaneously as he cleverly avoided her question.

"Seriously, Castle," she prodded, pulling further away from him, her eyes locked on his. "Humor me. How are you feeling?" she asked again.

He sighed, reaching for her hand and lacing their fingers together, taking a moment to appreciate the sight of their intertwined hands.

He looked up at her, watched her eyes as they moved to their hands, then back to his face.

"I feel…" he began, his lips twisting as he searched for the words. "I feel like my fever has gone down, and that my chest doesn't hurt all that much. I feel like they got it wrong. I feel like this can't be happening." He stopped and sighed, long and hard before continuing. "I feel scared, Kate. I feel uncertain and angry and frustrat…"

Kate interrupted him, moving her mouth to his again, effectively swallowing his words. She held him close with both hands, removing the one that had been tangled in his and placing it on his broad back, just below his shoulders. It was a different kind of kiss. It was full of all the same love and promise, but also fear and desperation. The intensity of it held so much hope, for what, neither of them could be sure. Kate tried to communicate that promise, that silent oath as best she could as she held him to her. As they pulled back, panting and breathless, they moved their foreheads together, bumping slightly as they shared the intimate space.

They were interrupted by a knock on the door, and as they pulled away from each other, they yelled "come in!" at the same time.

Dr. Stanley poked his head into the doorway before stepping inside. Castle felt guilty about the way he had spoken to the doctor earlier, and now it seemed like the man was walking on eggshells.

"Mr. Castle, we're going to be taking you to oncology very soon. How are you feeling?" he asked.

"I feel alright," Castle answered. No story, no plot, just the truth. He found himself at a loss for words in this situation more than he ever had in his life, and it made him feel helpless. Without his words, he felt abandoned. He felt naked, and not in the fun way.

"Ok, then, Mr. Castle, uh Rick. I'll send in the nurse to take your vital signs, and then we'll get you down there." The doctor looked at Kate, then to Castle and back again. "Your… wife is more than welcome to come along," he said with uncertainty. He wasn't sure if he had gotten it right, but she had been by his side since he first met his patient. The devotion he had witnessed was a rarity these days, so he assumed…

Neither Kate nor Castle opened their mouths to correct the doctor. What was the point? Castle smiled at her as she began to speak before thinking better of it. It didn't matter, and she was going to be with him whether they were married or dating or whatever defined them in the moment.

Dr. Stanley smiled at them before turning to walk out the door again, stopping briefly to speak. "We'll get you moving very shortly, Rick, Mrs. Castle."

"It's Beckett," Kate corrected him. Castle caught her glance as a tiny smile broke out on her face. "I decided to keep my maiden name." She was playing with him, and he adored her for it. To see the sly smile he loved so much on her face was like a miracle, the greatest gift he could receive in this situation.

"My apologies, Ms. Beckett," He smiled again. "I'll see you both again very soon."

Kate avoided Castle's piercing look, trying to hold the smile from her face as she pretended to ignore him, to not see him. Finally she felt him tugging on her arm, and she turned to him to see that he was echoing the upturn of her lips. It felt good to smile, and even better to smile with her. It was a welcome distraction, and he was insanely grateful for it.

"I think we may have rushed into this marriage thing," he joked, eliciting a chuckle that vibrated in her chest.

"Well then it's a good thing I only married you for your money, Mr. Castle," she retorted, her ivory teeth and gums exposed as she grinned widely.

He reached for her with both hands, feeling the unpleasant tug of the IV in his left arm. She leaned down to him, closing the distance and allowing him to hold her cheeks before their lips collided. "You are _such _a gold digger!" he quipped into her mouth. The feeling of her laughter transferring from her throat to his was exquisite, and he wanted nothing more than to carry her to his bed, to sprawl across the massive mattress and to make her scream his name as they moved and warped among one another. He wondered when he would be able to make that happen.

They pulled apart again as they door opened a crack, followed by a knock. They both sighed audibly, wanting each other so badly but recognizing the logistical limitations of the place they had found themselves in. His nurse smiled genuinely at both of them, heading towards the right side of the bed.

"Hey, Jude!" said Castle excitedly. Kate shook her head and rolled her eyes at him as she backed up to get out of Jude's way. She imagined he had been waiting hours to say that to the nurse, and Kate was both embarrassed and smitten at the same time.

The young nurse laughed, tearing open the Velcro on the blood pressure cuff in her hands. "Wow, Mr. Castle! I've absolutely _never _heard that one before!" she joked.

She moved quickly, wrapping the cuff around his upper arm and turning it on before reaching for an electronic thermometer mounted on the cart she had pushed into the room. As his arm went numb under the pressure of the cuff, Jude took Castle's temperature, sticking the pointy end of a bulky thermometer into his ear canal. It only took a second, and Jude smiled when she read the digital readout. "98.9, Mr. Castle. Your fever is pretty much gone. That's great news!" The nurse made it sound like it was the best news in the world, but it really was the best they had at the moment.

"Give me a second to get rid of this cart, and I'll bring you to Oncology," said Jude, leaving for a moment and returning with a wheelchair. She pushed it to the side of his bed, moving the IV pole so that it didn't snag. "Do you think you can get into the chair?" she asked.

"I think I can walk, actually," insisted Castle. "I really don't think a wheelchair is necessary."

Jude nodded. "You're right, you probably _can _walk, and it probably isn't necessary. But it's policy, and it's for your own safety. I'll push you really fast if you want."

Castle smiled, and turned to Kate as he heard her laugh softly as well. She nodded her head at him, flicking her chin into the direction of the chair. He closed his eyes before pushing himself up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He would do it for her.

Jude pushed them into the vast oncology waiting room. There weren't many people there, but there was room for dozens. He took note of the toys in the corner of the room, and he wondered how many sick little children had come through this office, flanked by parents desperately trying to save their short little lives. He thought about Alexis, and then shook his head to try and disrupt the thought. It was one of his worst nightmares, the thought of his daughter being alone or hurt or sick.

Rick tucked his head as he turned to look at Kate, seated in the chair next to him. She flashed him a reassuring smile, though she has no idea where she pulled it from. It made him feel marginally better, nonetheless. He shifted his focus just beyond Kate, to where the now vacant wheelchair sat; abandoned by Castle the second Jude had locked the wheels before leaving them in the oncology department. He had felt awkward seated in the chair, but apparently Dr. Stanley had insisted upon ordering it. All it did was make him feel sicker than he already, supposedly was. He didn't need it, he didn't want it.

As they waited, Kate reached for his hand, pulling it onto her lap. The way her thumb moved over his knuckles made his heart flutter, made him forget, if only for a moment, why they were there. He eyed Kate as she checked the time on her watch. Eight a.m.

"Shit," she hissed under her breath, rolling her head back against the wall. She turned her face towards Castle, squeezing his hand.

"Work?" he asked. She nodded at him. She hadn't spent much time at the Precinct since the afternoon she found Castle having a panic attack in the street, since his life had been turned upside down, effectively taking hers with him. It had only been a few days, and the boys had covered for her, but she knew that Captain Gates would want an explanation sooner rather than later. She didn't want to leave him, and she wasn't even sure if she _could._ She didn't know if she could work effectively without being with him while he was going through this. She felt like she had lost her efficiency, her ability to be of use to her team, and it made her feel tremendously guilty. It had to be a temporary state, and she had to push through it.

Shit, how things had changed. She shook her head at the shock of it all. He was her best friend and her partner, and suddenly her lover. It wasn't all that sudden, however, and she knew it as well as he did. They had been engaged in a game of mental foreplay since nearly day one, and each day since she had fallen for him more and more. The real journey was in coming to the place where she could be honest with him, allow him to break down her walls, and to give him the love he had given her, the love she knew he deserved.

"You should go in," Castle said softly, interrupting her train of thought. "It would be good for you. It would also probably be good for your job, staying under Gates' radar." He pulled his hand from hers for a moment to reposition it, locking their fingers together, palms touching. He pulled the entwined mass to his mouth, kissing her hand long and sweetly.

Kate shook her head adamantly at his suggestion, the sting of it tickling her tear ducts. "No, Castle. I am not leaving you alone. Not today, Rick." She was stubborn, and secretly, she wanted to stomp her feet like a child at the injustice, the frustration of it all.

He reached for her face, holding her tightly so that she couldn't avert her eyes. "Kate, I will not be alone. Mother and Alexis are on their way." She started to interrupt him, but he swallowed her protests, kissing her passionately while pulling her face impossibly closer to his.

As they pulled apart, Castle noticed Kate's lips turn upward just slightly, the tiniest semblance of a smile. "I have your car, Castle. I can't leave," she justified, turning her head at him questioningly as he laughed at her.

"What are you laughing at, Castle?"

"I'm laughing at your crappy excuse," he jested. "I'm sure Mother can give me a ride home. If not, I have a driver I can call at a moment's notice. There are also taxis, in case you hadn't noticed. Take my car, go to work, and then you can use it to come back to me after work."

Kate ducked her head as she chuckled. "You know, we are probably going to have to figure out a better plan for our cars, Castle. Either your car or mine has been at the Precinct day and night for the last few days. People are going to start to suspect."

He shrugged. "We'll figure it out. And to be perfectly honest, _I _have no issue with anyone knowing that I am dating the love of my life. Whatever _you _feel comfortable with is all that matters to me, Kate."

She heard the phrase he had just spoken- "_The love of my life"_, and she went numb. She could feel the power of that simple, four letter word as it reverberated in her chest. Her eardrums rang with the echo. She wasn't scared of it, but she was stunned by the weight of it, and he knew it.

Their eyes locked for a long several seconds, a staring contest with no real loser. Kate diverted her eyes first, however, before looking back to him and beginning to speak. "Okay, Castle. You win. Sort of," she began. "I'll go, but not until Martha and Alexis get here. That is my final offer."

He smiled at her, not bothering to argue. It was a good plan, because the only thing that would soften the blow of watching her walk away from him would be the presence of his daughter and his mother. He nodded, reaching his hand out for a standard handshake. "You, Detective Beckett, have got a deal."

She shook his hand and grinned at him, before their reverie was disturbed by his name being called. Real life was showing up again, and they sunk together beneath the burden.

Kate and Rick had followed a nurse down the bright, wide hallway of the oncology department, leaving them sitting in a room with the words "chemo in progress" on the outside of the door while they waited for Dr. Stanley. The nurse motioned for Rick to sit in a chair that was apparently designed specifically for the administration of chemotherapy drugs. The chair was a large, comfortable recliner with a spot for the IV pole to attach to the side of it, and it was absolutely the most relaxing and restful piece of furniture he had ever experienced in a hospital. Kate smiled at Rick as she watched him explore the new chair, leaning back to put his legs up, and reclining to rest his head.

"I'm jealous of your chair," she joked. "Are you sure you didn't make some calls to have a friggin' La-Z- Boy brought up here?"

Rick laughed as he reached for her as she sat in her much less comfortable chair, moving it so that she could be directly in front of Rick rather than next to him, to the side of him. She could see him much better this way. She leaned into his hands, allowing him to bring her mouth to his. The kiss started off slowly, unhurried before quickly turning into a more frantic gesture, hands grabbing, teeth scraping against one another.

When their lips finally disconnected, Rick continued to hold tightly to her face, dropping soft kisses across her forehead, her cheeks, her eyelids. "Thank you," he said softly, almost a whisper.

She cocked her head to the side, puzzled as he moved his hands away from her face. "Thank you for what, Castle?" she asked.

He sighed heavily, closing his eyes tightly as he searched for the words. How could she not know? How could she not realize that it was _her_ that was keeping him above water? He smiled a bit, lifting his head to look at her in adoration. "Just… thank you, Kate."

She smiled back, mildly confused but not so much so that she couldn't let it go. She leaned into him to place her lips against his forehead, mumbling against him. "You're welcome, then. Always."

They settled into their respective seats, enjoying each other's company in the silence. If only it was a different place with different circumstances. If only it was just the two of them, connected physically and mentally without running into roadblocks and obstacles, IV poles and tubing, doctors and diagnoses.

They turned their heads simultaneously as the door opened again. Dr. Stanley walked into the room, a well-rehearsed smile on his face. He reached towards Rick to shake his hand, before turning to Beckett, nodding with a smile as he shook her hand as well. Holding Rick's chart prominently in his arms, Dr. Stanley pulled a stool forward, wheeling it close to Rick's chair.

"Okay, Rick," the Doctor began. "As you know, we are going to start administering chemotherapy drugs today. I'm sure this all feels rushed to you, but our goal is to be able to control and ultimately cure your cancer. The sooner we start, the greater the chances you have of getting better in the shortest amount of time."

Rick nodded as the doctor spoke, trying to take it all in while watching Kate out of the corner of his eye. She had turned her chair to face Dr. Stanley once he entered the room, so Rick couldn't see her emotions as they spread across her face. He couldn't see her brow furrow as she was in deep thought. He couldn't see her eyes and the way they changed color with the shift in her moods. Instead, he watched her body language, reading her as she unconsciously fisted her hands together, played with the string of her sweatshirt, rubbed her thighs through her pants.

The doctor looked back and forth between them, watching their silent conversation play out. He stayed quiet, fingering the pages in Castle's chart as he waited for their attention again. Noticing the silence and the potential for awkwardness, Rick reached for Kate's hand, which had been sitting on the armrest of her chair. She turned to him, offering a smile before they both looked back to the doctor.

"Sorry about that, doctor," Castle said. "Please go on." He felt Kate's thumb coast across his knuckles as Dr. Stanley began to speak again.

"That's fine, Rick. No need for apologies," he said. "I just want you to be completely aware of what comes along with this type of treatment. You will be spending a lot of time in this chair, but it's your best chance to come through it all with your health intact. Today you will begin your first cycle of chemotherapy, with a few medications that have proven successful with your type of cancer."

"How long does a 'cycle' last, Doctor," asked Kate. She hated butting in but she felt like this was her business now. She felt like it was her fight too, because she would do anything in her power to take care of him. She wanted to be with him, together on this, so she asked.

Glancing at Beckett, then back to Castle, Dr. Stanley continued explaining. "Well, it depends on a few different factors, specifically how you respond to your treatment. We will administer the drugs to you starting today, and then again next week, and so on. These scheduled sessions are "cycles", and will help us to determine how to continue treating you. The hope is that you respond quickly, but I do need to make you aware of some of the things to expect with chemotherapy treatment.

Rick nodded, his eyes glued to the doctor's, trying to read the pretense underneath his words. _Side effects. _That was the part of everything that scared him the most, and when he thought of what little he knew about the treatment, he thought of nausea, weakness, pain, hair loss. He thought of his own cells attacking _him _as they fought to take out the "bad" cells, the cancerous ones.

"When you come in for chemo," began Dr. Stanley, "You can expect to be here for several hours. We will flush your veins with saline before administering the first medication, and then we will repeat the process for the second med. I would bring a book or a laptop with you. It will help pass the time and it will distract you."

"So that's why these chairs are so awesome," joked Rick. "So tell me about these side effects, Doctor. When should I expect them?" he asked.

"Well, Mr. Castle…" the doctor had said it again, but Rick let it slide, sighing before allowing Dr. Stanley to continue. "It's hard to say exactly how you will be affected by the treatment. Some people make it through the process with minimal side effects. For most patients, however, some nausea and vomiting is expected. You will feel generally weak and fatigued, and your appetite will likely be affected, although it is important that you try to keep something down. You will likely experience bouts of nausea and sleeplessness most severely in the hours following your treatments. I would expect that you will have to deal with that tonight, so just be prepared."

"What about hair loss?" asked Castle. He felt shallow asking about it, but he felt like so much was being taken from him, and he had to know that he had control over _something. _Kate was thinking it too, about how beautiful his hair was and how she loved to run her fingers through it. She mourned the idea for a moment, before feeling guilty for having such petty thoughts. She wanted him to _live, _to _thrive, _so the superficial, trivial elements didn't matter.

"A large percentage of patients treated with chemotherapy drugs wind up losing at least some of their hair throughout this process. It can be traumatic, but it's important to understand that we are basically encouraging the chemotherapy regimen to attack your healthy cells as well as the cancerous ones. You may feel as though your body is betraying you, but we can treat a lot of that with some anti-anxiety and anti-nausea medication, as well as pain medication."

Once Dr. Stanley finished speaking, the room was weighed down by silence. Kate and Rick were individually trying to make sense of his words, facing the fear and the helplessness together.

Castle had been hooked up to the chemotherapy medications for at least an hour, watching them drip before they made their way to his bloodstream. He counted ceiling tiles and light switches to pass the time. When Kate's eyes began to droop, she lifted her legs, tucking her sock covered feet underneath his thighs before turning her head into her chair and starting to doze. Rick's focus had switched to Kate's toes, wiggling adorably beneath him. He gently pulled them from the spot under his legs, straightening her legs out before resting them across his knees. He began to nod off himself while rubbing her feet and ankles. He fell with her feet in his hands, finally sinking into the comfort of his amazing, if not misleadingly merciless leather recliner.

They were awakened only briefly by a nurse coming in to change his IV bag, administrating the second drug of the cycle. Once they had fallen asleep again, it wasn't long before the chemo room door was shoved open, banging against the stopper on the wall. His mother had arrived, and he could see Alexis behind her, rolling her eyes at her grandmother's need to make some kind of entrance, no matter what the circumstance.

Kate stretched her arms and moved her feet away from his lap as she tried to wake up before quickly standing. She watched as Alexis ran past her, practically jumping in her father's lap. She hugged him around the shoulders as Martha stood behind her, tapping her shoulder before pulling her into a strong, trapping bear hug as she turned around.

As Kate prepared to leave him, to head into the precinct and try to gather her thoughts by doing the only thing she truly _knew _she was good at, she caught his eyes. In an instant she realized that they weren't going to get the goodbye they thought they would, and even if it was just a matter of hours, time had proven itself to be faulty, at least when we look at it through the lens of our expectations.

She wanted to kiss him, and she could see the same desire mirrored back at her, but then her eyes looked to the right of him, and then the left. His mother and daughter were by his side, comforting him and making him laugh, even though it hurt him to do so as he watched her prepare to go. His family was there, however, and Kate convinced herself that it was a good thing for all of them.

Beckett grabbed her bag and rose to her feet, explaining that she had to get to the precinct to wrap up a few reports and to look into a case that Javi and Kevin had been working on. Alexis and Martha both stood up, both disappointed. They wrapped Kate in hugs that she didn't really know what to do with. She wasn't much of a 'hugger', at least not until Rick, and it was always awkward for her. She was working on it, as she did when she allowed herself to absorb the dual embrace from Castle's mother and daughter.

"Thank you for being with him, Kate," said Alexis, a shy smile on her face.

"Absolutely, my dear," Martha began, agreeing with Alexis. "Thank you for taking care of my boy. You amazing woman."

Kate was shy and uncertain about the accolades. She simply smiled a bit and shrugged her shoulders. "He's my partner," she told them, turning to Rick as she finished. "There is nothing I wouldn't do for my partner."

She walked over to his chair again quickly, resting her hands on his shoulders. She gave them a small squeeze, and he covered her hand with one of his. "Will I see you tonight?" he asked softly. She bent down to his ear, her warm breath tickling him. "I'll be there. I'll call you when I'm on the way."

Before he could respond, he saw her slipping out of the room, and he immediately missed her.

"So how are you feeling, Dad? Does it hurt?" asked Alexis, her hand running the length of the IV pole. She moved to sit on the large arm of the chair, leaning into her father as he wrapped his free arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.

"I'm mostly just tired, Pumpkin," he began. "This chemotherapy is likely to make me pretty sick, though, so my body is already bracing itself for that discomfort."

Rick looked towards his mother, who had seated herself quietly in the chair that Kate had left behind. She was wearing a form fitting purple skirt that showed off her svelte figure, and a bright yellow top that looked so smooth, it had to be silk. Her outfit, and the long, double strand of pearls that hung around her neck spoke volumes about Martha Rodgers' personality, her confidence and her youth. Today, however, they were just clothes.

"How could you not have told me, Richard?" his mother asked, a combination of hurt and anger sharpening the edges of her words.

"Mother, I am so sorry. I found out about this less than a week ago, Mother. It's been a matter of days, and I didn't want to tell you or Alexis until I knew for sure. I didn't want to worry you. Not unless I was there to pick up the pieces, and I couldn't do that over the phone."

Martha breathed inward heavily, opening her eyes to look back to her son. "Richard, I am not angry. Anything else, I'll get over it, but I am not angry. Never. I am just sad, because we tell each other things. We don't let the big things wait."

Rick nodded at his mother in understanding as he motioned for her to come to him, wrapping his IV installed arm around her, an embrace laced with apology.

As Martha sat back down, her demeanor more relaxed and light, her scarf billowed dramatically, as if she had just took her place on stage. Even in grief, she looked regal, put together, her make-up flawless, and not a single hair out of place.

"So how sick are you, Dad?" Alexis asked gently. "Did the doctor give you any new information?" As she waited for him to answer, she reached for her father's hand.

"Well, Lex, Mother- I'll tell you everything I know. He leaned forward in his chair, and made himself dizzy for a moment. It was going on his 3rd hour in the chemo room, and he could feel it taking its toll on nearly every part of him. "I have a cancer of the lymph nodes called Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma. It is a second stage diagnosis, which I guess isn't quite as good as a first, but better than third or fourth. Other than that, and sitting here receiving my first cycle of chemotherapy drugs, I don't know a lot." He paused as he felt how insufficient his words sounded. Before conceding, he looked between the two of them before speaking again, with a shrug of his shoulders. "I'm going to be fine. That much I know. I'm going to move past this, and we are all going to move on with our lives."

"Alexis told me that something happened last night. That you've been here since early this morning." Martha stated. She said what she knew, not questioning him directly but letting him know that she wanted answers.

Rick laid his head back against the lounger, closing his eyes for a moment as he concentrated on the feeling of fluid and toxic medication coursing through his arm. He hadn't planned on telling them about him and Kate yet. He felt like it was something that the two of them should discuss, but the rules were effectively broken, he decided. He couldn't answer his mothers query and leave Kate out without lying, which he refused to do if at all possible.

"I woke up in the middle of the night, and I was having trouble breathing. I also had a fever, and I sat on the edge of the bed trying to catch my breath, but I felt this burning in my chest," he began. "Kate woke up and decided that the hospital was the best idea. So she took my car keys and that's how we got here. Oh, and so you know, the shortness of breath and fever are part of my symptoms, Dr. Stanley said. Hopefully all of it can be trea-"

He almost finished his sentence when he was simultaneously interrupted by Alexis and Martha. "Wait!" they said, turning to each other before Martha continued.

"Where was Kate, darling?" asked Martha.

Rick smiled slightly, his lips pulling up at the corners, involuntarily. He couldn't stop it from happening, not when he was thinking about Kate. "She was in my bed, with me," he said, matter of factly. "We've both decided to give us a shot. We've decided to be together."

"Richard! That's wonderful! She is an amazing woman!" exclaimed Martha, her tone returning her back to normal, at least her loud, theatrical "normal". Rick smiled at her enthusiasm. His mother had almost always rooted for the two of them, even when the rest of the world made him feel crazy for it.

"Are you sure she will be okay, Dad?" asked Alexis, always the voice of reason, always the devil's advocate.

"What do you mean, sweetheart?" he asked.

"I mean, what if all this is too much for her? What if she can't handle you being sick, and runs away? I know how hard that would be for you, Dad, especially now."

He loved his dear daughter, her concern for him, her rationality. The truth was that he _was_ afraid of losing Kate. The thought terrified him, but he trusted her and he felt her commitment when she held her hand in his or grazed his cheek as she kissed him.

"Alexis, of course I have fears, about everything. I have fears when it comes to Kate and me, but I'm so much more afraid of never giving in to the feelings we have," Rick spoke earnestly. "I'm in love with her, you know," he finished.

Rick had been looking at Alexis as he spoke, and was distracted by the sound of clapping and the honking of Martha blowing her nose in her silk kerchief, feigning sobs. His mother had entered full drama mode, blowing her nose absurdly loud and wiping her eyes as she responded to her son's story of love in the face of adversity. "Bravo, Richard!" his mother practically yelled, as if she were about to give a standing ovation, slapping her hand against his thigh.

Alexis laughed at her grandmother, shaking her head. When she looked back to her father, she gave him the most sincere smile she could pull off, accompanied by a quick nod, just to let him know that she understood, that he didn't need to explain anymore, and that she was alright.

Kate spent her drive to the 12th experiencing an array of emotions. She went from desperate, screaming sadness to overwhelming anger that travelled down to her foot, weighing down on the accelerator. She whipped Castle's sports car through the streets, driving and braking aggressively as she pictured him tethered to that chair by his IV. Once she pulled into the precinct, she took a minute to rest her head against the steering wheel, catching her breath and collecting her thoughts. She was still wearing a baggy sweat suit, and her hair and make-up hadn't been done since yesterday, but she didn't really care much about it, although she was sure she would hear about it from Ryan and Esposito. She stepped out of Castle's car, grabbing her bag from the backseat and headed inside.

As she approached the entrance, she pulled out her phone after hearing a "chime" sound, signaling a text message. It was from Castle, and she couldn't imagine who else she expected it to be, but her heart skipped a beat anytime he crept into her consciousness. It had been that way for years, so the relief of the truth was both frightening and exhilarating.

He kept her on her toes so she was constantly learning about herself, constantly experiencing what felt like spiritual awakenings as she toed the line between fear and courage.

She read his texts, smiling at his words, wishing she were with him.

**Castle:** I wanted to kiss you goodbye.

Her chest ached as she quickly typed a response.

**Kate:** I know.

That wasn't enough, so she sent another before putting her phone back into her bag and entering the precinct.

**Kate:** Me too.

As she walked into the bullpen, Esposito caught her eye as she turned towards the locker room. He gave her a soft smile, which she was not expecting, so she returned it before heading in to change.

She felt a bit more like herself in dark skinny jeans and a green sweater, her feet in heels. She carefully folded Castle's sweats and put them into her bag before locking it away and heading to the mirror. She turned her face as she looked at herself. Her eyes were puffy and blood shot, and her hair was a mess. _She _was a mess, or at least she knew she looked like one. She pulled her hair back into a messy bun, breathing heavily as she prepared to head to her desk.

"I'm telling you, man, she doesn't look good," Esposito said to Ryan. "I only saw her for a second, but she looked like hell."

Detective Ryan was concerned about his boss, but most importantly, his friend. Two of his friends, when he thought of both Beckett and Castle. He shook his head as he imagined Castle's illness, as well as what it appeared to be doing to Detective Beckett.

Kevin and Javi redirected their attention as they saw Beckett approach, looking slightly more put together. She may have even looked good enough to fool every single person in the precinct, except for her partners. No matter what she said, or how she tried to downplay things, her boys knew.

"So what do we got?" asked Beckett, glancing between Javi and Ryan.

Reluctantly, Esposito handed her a manila folder with the photo of a young man paper clipped to the front.

"Patrick Monroe. He's our vic," started Esposito as Beckett leafed through the file. "32 years old, found shot at point blank range in the park in Union Square."

"What else?" asked Kate, feeling herself pull back into Detective mode, looking for the facts and how they fit together.

Ryan handed a photograph to Beckett. It was an image that looked like an upside down heart with an "X" through it, carved crudely into human skin. When she looked up at him questioningly, he handed her a second image. It was the same symbol branded the same way into someone's flesh.

"The first photo came from the vic we started working on the other day, when you left to see Castle. Brian Mayer, our first guy, had been shot closer to Times Square. We hadn't made any connection until Patrick Monroe was murdered."

"Were they shot with the same gun?" asked Beckett?

"Ballistics is checking it out, but they were both .38 specials," said Esposito.

"And what about the symbols? Do we know how they are connected?" asked Beckett.

"Unfortunately not," said Ryan.

"We've looked into gang databases and symbol galleries and we haven't found a match yet. Right now, the only thing connecting these two men is this symbol, and the only thing connecting the symbols is the two men. You could say we're stuck in circles, Detective Beckett," said Esposito.

"Mysterious symbols," Beckett said quietly, at almost a whisper.

"What was that, boss?" asked Esposito.

Kate looked up at him with a smile on her face. "I said 'mysterious symbols'". Espo and Ryan looked at her quizzing, mysterious, tilting their heads.

"Sorry," she said. "I was just thinking about Castle. He loves this kind of stuff." She quieted as she finished her sentence, sitting down quickly as she handed the photos back to Ryan.

The team had dealt with symbols that played prominently in cases over the years. They were especially difficult cases, given the secretive nature that the marks often implied, and the subjectivity of one's interpretation.

Kate thought back to one of their first cases together, when they had gone into an apartment looking for the suspect's passport. As Kate paid attention to the knock-off designer bag she had pulled the passport out of, Castle saw the suspect show up in the doorway, gun drawn. Kate didn't even have time to turn around when she felt herself flying to the ground, landing under Castle's protective body.

She was shell shocked by the rest of that day, not quite believing what Castle had done, and not thanking him nearly as sufficiently as she should have.

"BOSS! BECKETT!" Esposito's voice overlapped Ryan's as they pulled her out of her head. She had been daydreaming again. Her head wasn't in the game and she knew it. She also knew that THEY knew it. She apologized, shaking her head at herself, then watched as the two detectives looked at each other before grabbing their chairs and moving them to either side of Beckett's.

She looked back and forth between them as her personal space was taken over. "What's up, guys?" she asked.

Espo looked at her, his eyes connecting in a way that she could only imagine occurring between brothers. Kevin and Javi were the closest she had ever come to having siblings, and she only ever felt such trust and unique connection with them. She wasn't going to pull away, she wasn't going to run.

"Beckett, what's going on with you?" Javi asked.

She breathed in sharply, leaning over with her elbows on her knees, her head lifted to see the detectives.

"Beckett, is it Castle?" asked Ryan.

Beckett laughed a bit, mostly at herself. Yeah, it was Castle. It was him and how much he loved her. It was how unselfish he was, it was how he tried so hard to make sure _she _was ok, despite the hell he was going through. Right now, as she imagined him sitting in that chair back at Mount Sinai, it was nothing but Castle.

"Beckett," Espo repeated again, louder and more direct.

"Sorry, Espo, Kevin. I'm sorry. It's just… Yeah, It's tough right now," she stumbled as she began. "He's our partner, and he should be here with all of us, and it's just not okay that he isn't."

Ryan and Esposito looked at each other again, exchanging knowing glances. She was bluffing. She didn't know that they knew about her and Castle, so she was minimizing whatever it was that was hurting her so badly.

Esposito looked back to Beckett, shaking his head at her.

"We know it's more than that, Beckett." He placed a hand up when she started to speak over him. "Just let me finish, Beckett!" he said, frustrating tinting his voice.

"Beckett, Ryan and I know that you and Castle are seeing each other. Or dating. Or whatever it is that you are doing. We know. And we don't want you to worry about it, because despite all the money we could be splitting right now, prizes and bets aren't what matters. What matters is our friendship and our partnership. What matters is you and Castle."

Beckett was speechless, both at Espo's audacity and at how fucking right he was.

"And just so you know," added Esposito, "we would really like to see your boy again soon."

Beckett laughed, and Ryan breathed deep and audibly. The sound of her laugh was a welcome break from the worry and the uncertainty. It reminded them of when they weren't a fractured team, and it made them want to close that void again.

"I'm sure he would love to see you too." She said, looking at her brothers in arms.

"Gates is gone for the day." Esposito stated, bending to glance at the Captain's empty desk. "We've got this. We'll keep you informed, and if anything significant comes up, we'll call you."

Kate looked at Javier questioningly. He was telling her to go. He was giving her an out. She felt ashamed at how strongly she wanted to take him up on it, but she knew that she couldn't just leave the precinct every time things looked dark.

"I'm good, Javi." She said, reaching for the folder again. He pulled it back, handing it to Kevin. If she wanted to play a game of "Monkey in the Middle" with them, they were totally up for it.

"Go home, Beckett," said Kevin. His voice was softer than Javi's, but their message was the same.

Kate sighed as she hung her head, her chin touching her chest. She reached for the keys in her pocket, fingering them as she searched for the right answer.

"Go home," Kevin said again, punctuating the words. "We're on fire with this one. We'll call you."

She nodded her head, surrendering. She wasn't going to win this battle, and she truthfully didn't even want to.

"Thanks guys," she said as she stood up and headed out the door.

Shortly before Rick's chemotherapy was finished for the day and he was cleared to go home, Dr. Edwards' stopped by to see Rick, surprising Martha and Alexis as well. Dean had always been a close family friend, and Rick watched as he said hello to Alexis and Martha.

"Dean! You look lovely, my dear!" said Martha as she wrapped the man in a breath stealing bear hug.

Alexis also stood up to give the doctor a hug, her smile wide as she told him about college and her work at the Medical Examiner's office.

For a few brief moments, the jovial atmosphere gave way under the weight of why they were all there. It got so quiet that Rick could hear the clock on the wall as it ticked the seconds away. It was all wasted time. He was exhausted and ready for the day to be over, he was tired of being stared at by his mother, daughter, and now his friend, Dean. He would get up and leave, call it a day on his own accord if he wasn't tethered to his chair. All of it frustrated him and reminded him of how badly he wanted to go home, even though he knew the worst of it would come at home. The pain would come at home. The main difference and the deciding factor was that Kate was home, Alexis was home. All the love he could ever hope to deserve was home.

As Rick's IV was removed, he curled his arm up. It was stiff from sitting in the same position all day, and it felt good to be able to move more freely again. He was so anxious to leave, and was thankful that Dr. Stanley came in quickly to discharge him. Rick gave Dean's hand a shake before his friend went on his way, Alexis and Martha saying their goodbyes as well.

"How are you feeling now, Rick?" asked Dr. Stanley

"I feel tired, but I guess that's to be expected," said Rick.

"Yes, it is. Fatigue is very common, and you are probably going to want to go home and go to bed. Are you experiencing any nausea?" he asked.

"No, no nausea. How long does it usually take for that side effect to show up?" Rick asked.

"It really depends on the patient. Some start feeling nauseous during the treatment itself; others don't start getting serious nausea till hours or even days later. And still others get very little nausea."

"I hope I'm the third guy," said Rick. Dr. Stanley laughed softly.

"I'm giving you a few different prescriptions, Rick. I would suggest you get them filled before you head home, just so you have them. One is an anti-nausea medication, and then we have an anti-anxiety medication and a pain medication. If you have any questions about any of them, please don't hesitate to call at any time. Other than that, you are ready to-"

Martha cut the man off, a cunning look on her face. "Doctor," she began. "How do you feel about medical marijuana?" She had spoken the last two words in a whisper, like it was a secret she didn't want anyone to know.

"Mother!" shouted Rick, nearly simultaneously as Alexis yelled "Gram!"

Dr. Stanley laughed at the boldness of the older woman. He held Castle's chart to his chest before speaking again, looking in Martha's direction. "Do you want my honest answer to that question, or were you just trying to embarrass your son?"

"I would love your honest opinion, doctor." Martha responded. Castle covered his eyes, mortified at the flirty tone in her voice.

The doctor nodded at her, about to speak. "In the state of New York, there is no "medical marijuana", at least not legally. I can't prescribe it, and I can't recommend it. Off the record, however, if you are able to obtain it, it can be highly effective for nausea, increasing appetite, and sleeplessness."

Castle had seen his fair share of raucous parties over the years, and was no stranger to the elements that come along with them. He could drink like a fish, and he would have been lying if he said that he hadn't smoked his fair share of pot during those times. He didn't have any real issue with it, but he was working with the NYPD now. Things had changed. Kate was a detective, so he cared about the law far more than he used to.

"I appreciate the information, doctor," he began. "I don't think I'll be going that route, though. It's just not for me." He stared at his mother as he finished his statement, drilling into her eyes as he tried to let her know how hilariously inappropriate she was.

It was a perfectly ridiculous way to end such an overwhelming day, and he was practically jumping out of his seat. His IV was removed quickly, and as he walked with Martha and Alexis to the parking garage, he felt full of energy, motivation, and the urge to run.

As their car made its way slowly through the crowded Manhattan streets, Castle could feel waves of discomfort and nausea flow through his body. He closed his eyes, trying to push the feelings away. Martha detoured them, noticing how quiet he had become, and pulled the car into the parking garage, next to his Ferrari. Kate was here. Castle moved as quickly as he could towards the building, turning around when he didn't hear the footsteps of his mother and daughter behind him.

"Go on, Dad," his daughter said. "Gram and I are going to take a walk down to the pharmacy to fill your prescriptions."

He started to protest, telling them that he would go with them, that it wasn't necessary to take care of him like this.

"Dad," his daughter continued. "Dad, go inside. Go see Kate."

He nodded, looking deep into his daughter's eyes. As protective as she was, she knew what he needed and he loved her all the more for it. They turned away from each other as he walked inside and they headed down to the street.

Kate was sitting next to his door when he turned the corner, despite the fact that she had a key.

"Kate," he spoke loudly as he approached her. She hadn't seen him until she heard his voice, and she stood quickly to make her way towards him, meeting him with a desperate hug.

"Why didn't you use your key, Kate?" he asked.

Kate shrugged, her hand hitched around the back of his neck. "I thought it was for emergencies."

He laughed softly, pulling her keys from her hand and opening the door, following her inside. "It's for whenever you want to come inside, Kate." He said, smiling at her before falling back against the couch.

"How do you feel?" she asked. She touched his forehead and then his cheeks as she sat down next to him.

"I can feel it." He said, vaguely. "It's like… waves. Bits of nausea and weakness and dizziness. I keep telling myself that it's unrelated to all of this, that it will go away, but it's just the beginning, Kate."

She could feel the fear in his voice, and she hated it. She resented the cards he had been dealt, and she could feel all of it too. She pulled his head down to rest in her lap, running her fingers through his hair.

Kate leaned her head against the back of the couch, closing her eyes for what felt like the first time all day.

"Richard, Kate. Wake up!" Kate was awakened by Martha's attempt at a quiet, softened voice, and was instantaneously embarrassed, not yet knowing that Rick had spilled the beans.

"It's ok, dear," Martha cooed to her. "Go to bed."

She was confused, and her face reflected apology as she looked past Martha to see Alexis across the room. The girl shook her head, as if to say that apologies weren't necessary.

Kate looked down at Rick, sleeping in her lap, and she ran her hands down his face before grabbing his shoulders and shaking him lightly. He stirred, looking up at her, smiling sleepily. "Let's go to bed, Rick," she said. He nodded at her as he sat up, his head still wrapped in a slumber filled daze.

When he moved to stretch, he noticed his mother and daughter watching them. He looked back at Kate, then to Martha and Alexis. "Go to bed, Dad" Alexis said to him, giving him a smile that showed him that it was all okay. Alexis had decided that she would much rather see her father experiencing moments of comfort with Kate than to see him alone, sick, and without the woman he said he loved.

Rick stood, his body stiff and weak, and reached for Kate's hand. The bags beneath her eyes betrayed her own exhaustion, and as strange as it felt to be given permission to get into bed with him, permission granted by his mother and daughter, she was too tired to try to rationalize. She took his hand and followed him, stopping briefly as he kissed Martha and Alexis.

As they approached his bedroom door, Martha yelled behind them, "Medication is in the bedside table!"

Kate nodded as they both turned around to look at Martha. Castle verbally thanked her, and then turned his head to Alexis. "I love you, Pumpkin," he said, his voice thick with weariness.

"I love you too, Dad. Go to bed," she said again, insisting. He smiled at his daughter before turning back towards his bedroom, closing the door behind Kate.

Rick peeled his sweatshirt off and kicked his shoes off his feet before collapsing on the bed. Kate undressed down to her underwear, having trapped herself in form-fitting work clothes that were not conducive to comfortable sleep.

She climbed into his bed, instantly absorbing the comfort of the massive space. They took up very little of it as he pulled her towards him, her back against his chest as she curled into him. He pulled the comforter over them, resting his chin in the crook of her neck and shoulder, and they quickly fell asleep.

Kate woke with a start, shaking her head to separate reality from dreams, and very quickly heard him in the bathroom. She quickly threw on the first pair of boxers she could see, and a discarded tank top before opening the bathroom door a crack. Before she could call out to him, she heard him wretch. It was the sound that had woke her up, and despite everything she had been through in her life and everything she had seen, listening to him go through _this_ twisted her insides like few other experiences.

She pushed the door open to see Rick in just his boxer shorts on the floor, a blue t-shirt laid next to him. His arms were wrapped around the toilet seat, and she could hear him struggle for breath before retching again, his efforts bringing up only toxic stomach acid. Kate filled a mug by the sink with water before touching him on the shoulder. "Here, Rick. Drink this. It's just water," she spoke softly.

When he turned his head to look up at her, she pretended that she wasn't shocked by the bags under his eyes, the redness around his pupils, or the balmy, pasty skin on his face. He grabbed the cup from her with shaky fingers, downing it quickly before laying his head down on the toilet seat again.

Kate moved behind him, sinking onto the floor. She rubbed circles along his back and shoulders, gently squeezing some of the tension out. His retching had turned into tiny hiccups, and he sighed under her touch. "Just breathe," she told him soothingly. "In and out, Rick. Just breathe."

She put her cheek against his back, and then planted kisses between his shoulder blade. "Didn't the doctor prescribe you some anti-nausea pills?"

He sat back and turned, moving against the bathtub. He felt somewhat better, and somewhat was a massive improvement that he would gladly take. He nodded at her question. He hadn't even thought about it. "Um, yeah. Mother put it in the bedside table, I think," and then she remembered.

Kate wordlessly stood up and headed towards the bedroom. She reached into the drawer next to the bed. As she returned to the bathroom, refilling his glass and handing him two small pills, she knelt in front of him, moving his sweaty hair away from his forehead. She stilled her hand at his chin, smiling close lipped at him. It wasn't so much a happy smile as a reverent one. They sat silently in the bathroom, their skin against the cool tile until he finally felt some control over his nausea, his gag reflex. He stood up, reaching down for her hand before leading them back to bed.

As they lay in bed, her head on his shoulder and his fingers coasting along her back. "Why are you doing this?" he asked, his voice shattering the silence. "Why put yourself through it, Kate?"

In barely a moment, she became furious, about to lash out with phrases like "how dare you?" and "don't you know what I've done for you?", and "Do you know what you've put me through?", but she knew it would help nothing. And when she took a moment to breathe, and to look at his question in context, she knew she could only give him one answer.

She sat up, crossing her legs Indian style on the bed next to him. In the dark, they could only see each other's outline and the shine of the moon in each other's eyes, but she made sure they were looking at each other.

"Rick, I am here, I am doing this because I love you. I'll never love anyone the way that I love you. And because _you _love _me, _in spite of everything. You just keep saying it out loud, in everything you do, and I hope you never stop. And you are going to make it through this because too many people need you and love you, Castle. I _need _you. You're strong and stubborn and I'm not letting you go, Rick."

He sighed audibly as he took her hand, holding it up so the he could see it in the moonlight.

"Someday I am going to put a ring on your finger and I'm going to ask you to be my wife. Now, I don't want you to be afraid of it or thinking you have to be on your toes for it. I promise not to spring it on you or put you on the spot. I hope that when I ask you, that you won't be scared, that you'll know how much I love you and want to give you everything you deserve in life. I'll wait for you forever, Kate, for everything, but I need you to know that you are going to say yes and I'm going to marry you."

She laughed quietly at the confidence in his words, but she knew he was right. They were going to manage all of this together, and she was sure that when the time came, she was absolutely going to say "yes".


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER 8**

**Summary: In the days following Castle's first chemotherapy treatment, he discovers moments of light among the darkness. Kate is called in to see Captain Gates.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own, nor am I affiliated with Castle, ABC, Disney, and/or Andrew Marlowe. No affiliation is intended or implied.**

**Author's Notes: I enjoyed writing this chapter, and exploring just a little bit of light for Rick Castle and the people he loves. I had to get him out of the hospital, out of the sickness, at least a bit. I hope you enjoy it.**

**Thank you for the amazing reviews I have received, as well as all the follows and favorites. It is incredibly motivating, and I probably would have given this story up without your support. Please keep them coming…**

…**I had planned on posting this last night, but I was busy losing my mind after the Season 5 promo.**

_*Previously on Castle…_

_As they lay in bed, her head on his shoulder and his fingers coasting along her back. "Why are you doing this?" he asked, his voice shattering the silence. "Why put yourself through it, Kate?"_

_In barely a moment, she became furious, about to lash out with phrases like "how dare you?" and "don't you know what I've done for you?", and "Do you know what you've put me through?", but she knew it would help nothing. And when she took a moment to breathe, and to look at his question in context, she knew she could only give him one answer._

_She sat up, crossing her legs Indian style on the bed next to him. In the dark, they could only see each other's outline and the shine of the moon in each other's eyes, but she made sure they were looking at each other._

"_Rick, I am here, I am doing this because I love you. I'll never love anyone the way that I love you. And because you love me, in spite of everything. You just keep saying it out loud, in everything you do, and I hope you never stop. And you are going to make it through this because too many people need you and love you, Castle. I need you. You're strong and stubborn and I'm not letting you go, Rick."_

_He sighed audibly as he took her hand, holding it up so the he could see it in the moonlight._

"_Someday I am going to put a ring on your finger and I'm going to ask you to be my wife. Now, I don't want you to be afraid of it or thinking you have to be on your toes for it. I promise not to spring it on you or put you on the spot. I hope that when I ask you, that you won't be scared, that you'll know how much I love you and want to give you everything you deserve in life. I'll wait for you forever, Kate, for everything, but I need you to know that you are going to say yes and I'm going to marry you."_

_She laughed quietly at the confidence in his words, but she knew he was right. They were going to manage all of this together, and she was sure that when the time came, she was absolutely going to say "yes".  
_

* * *

She watched him as he slept, practically holding her breath for fear of disturbing him. As much as she wanted to run her fingers gently up and down his arms or through his hair, she kept still. She was realizing how easy it would be to take these moments for granted; just being with him, watching him sleep, completely open and trusting to the world. Tonight he had tossed and turned, frustrated and resentful, nauseous and aching until after four-thirty in the morning. She had stayed up with him for most of it, because she just couldn't bear to imagine him struggling through it alone.

His doctor had told him to expect the days immediately following his treatments to be the worst, and it hadn't been an exaggeration. He had spent those first nights sick with sharp and relentless nausea, sometimes curled up on the bathroom floor, just waiting, expecting the upsurge of sickness that almost always came. No matter how hard he tried, however, he couldn't get over the burn he felt in his throat as he dry heaved, giving up nothing but stomach acid. His appetite had been totally disrupted, and he couldn't remember the last time he had eaten something and kept it down. The fire in his stomach told him that it had been a while.

He had been told to expect mediocre days bookended by terrible ones, with okay days sprinkled here and there. So far, in the earliest parts of it all, he was tired most days and almost every night, but it didn't seem to help him collapse into sleep. When his nausea finally let go of him, releasing its grip on his stomach temporarily, he found himself paced his loft, despite the intense feeling that his body could give out at any moment. He walked around the kitchen, and through the living room and back, stopping to look out the picture window at the city still lit, always lit, always alive. He tried to draw strength from it, but if anything, it weakened him. He felt so far from himself, even when the nausea subsided, turned a bit slower in his gut. He felt like his body was waging a war against him.

He had become effectively nocturnal, sleep only taking hold in the early morning hours when his mind and body finally gave out.

Kate had become just as affected by his insomnia, staying up with him whether she was expected at the precinct the next morning or not. Those nights together, where nothing seemed to exist outside of his bedroom, he found himself feeling devastatingly grateful for her. Even as his world felt like it was caving in, she surrounded him and held him up with her touch or her smile or her words.

She whispered long hidden truths and terms of endearment in his ear and made sure that he always felt her hand on his body. He had practically begged her to go home, to get some sleep of her own. When she refused, he even offered the guest room, but she stayed, dozing off here and there while rubbing his shoulders or his hair. She stayed, even though he knew it was affecting her. The sacrifice brought tears to his eyes, both for her show of commitment to him and her willingness to put her own needs aside. It was selfless, and he loved her for it, even as it made him feel like so much less than the man he thought she deserved.

Sleep had become a fleeting luxury for him since he started chemotherapy, occurring in spurts and short bouts, like daytime naps. She knew that it frustrated him, and as she lay with him, she counted three whole hours since she finally convinced him to take his medication, small pills ordered for pain and sleeplessness that Dr. Stanley had prescribed. He had slipped into unconsciousness shortly thereafter, and it felt like a miracle to both of them.

He had developed a hard headed resistance to his medication, especially the ones for anxiety and pain. He was afraid of dependence, but the thought of being mentally absent or disconnected from his daughter, from Kate, was the worst of his fears. He had been pushing through a large portion of his discomfort, taking his anti-nausea pills while leaving the narcotics and benzodiazepines unopened in his bedside drawer.

"Why are you so stubborn, Castle? Don't you want to feel better? Don't you want to give yourself a break?" Kate asked him, her own irritation lacing her words.

"You were shot, Kate," he spit back, pausing to look directly at her, seeing confusion in her eyes and in the way she cocked her head.

"You were shot, and you wouldn't take anything once you were discharged, Kate. You had PTSD, and you refused to take the very same anxiety medication that is sitting in my drawer."

"Don't be a martyr, Castle, "she said, a sharpness to her voice. "Take the damn pills. And just so you know you've won the argument, I was an _idiot_, Castle. I was unyielding and selfish and if I could go back in time and do the things that would have sped my recovery up, the things I fought against, I would do it. I would take them. Please, Castle." She held her hand out to him, the pills cupped in her palm.

He looked up at her, hovering over him as he sat on the edge of his bed, her arm pointed down to him. He put his arm out towards her, and she poured the medication into his hand. She handed him a glass of cold water, and he took the pills without a fight. She had surrendered, so he decided to wave his white flag as well.

* * *

On more than one day, the fatigue was so overwhelming that he could barely lift his head from the pillow. It was during these particularly dark times that Kate would sit down on the bed next to where he lay and lean over him, caressing the expanse of skin covering him there, massaging him gently across his back and shoulders. She moved slowly, listening to his breath as it became erratic beneath them, hoping with everything inside of her that she could pull him from the pain and weariness of his body betraying him, if only for a few moments.

Once she had covered him with her hands, she pulled away, hearing a protesting "hmm," mumbled from Castle's throat. The sound brought her relief at the knowledge that she was distracting him at the very least, pulling him from the shadows. He was still there, still with her.

She moved down on the bed, sitting on her knees between his thighs as he lay on his stomach, his body lying splayed and wide across the mattress. Kate dropped her head down to the trail she had left with her fingers and put her mouth to his back. She planted open-mouthed kisses over his body while continuing to touch him with her hands. She smiled when she heard a quick gasp leave his lips as she ran her tongue across the entirety of the backside of his upper body.

She slowed down her touches until they were just feather light, exquisite whispers upon his skin. She began to move away from him, but never broke the contact between her fingers and his skin. She could feel him, could hear his arousal, but she knew how low his energy was today, yesterday, the day before. They hadn't made love since the night before he started his first round of chemotherapy, and while it wasn't the most important thing to her right now, she wasn't sure how _he _felt about it. He may have been sick, but he was still a man. She wanted to feel his hands on her, wanted to feel him inside her so badly, but she would never push him. Not now, not when she looked at him, his face giving his discomfort away.

She wasn't sure of the doctor's orders or limitations, so she crawled up his body, turning the bedside lamp off before positioning herself on her side to face him. He turned himself from his back to his side as well, his body canting toward hers, and they stared at each other as shadows played over their bodies in the dark. She touched his face, rubbing her thumbs under his eyes, wiping away tears that weren't falling, but that felt like they could at any moment from either of their eyes.

He ran his hands across her arms, her sides, her stomach, and she held her breath at his touch. He pulled her to him, her head landing at his shoulder as she wrapped a leg around his.

"I love you," he said, his tone quiet but certain, kissing the top of her head as if to seal the proclamation. Her left arm had become trapped between their bodies, so she turned it to rest on his chest, touching him softly before kissing each spot she had touched, just as she had done for his back. Her other arm settled against his cheek before slowly moving along his skin until it came to rest at the curve of his torso. Kate moved their already close faces together, closing the tiny gap as their mouths connected. When they parted only due to lack of air, she widened the spread of her fingers on his chest, playfully touching.

"I love you, Rick. So much, "she emphasized, curling into him as she slowly listened for his breathing to slow, to even out. She wouldn't allow herself to fall asleep until she knew that he had. She wouldn't allow herself to leave him alone, even as he held her in his arms.

* * *

As the sun had peeked into Rick's bedroom, they woke together, remaining silent while they remained wrapped around each other, hands roving gently across each other's skin.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, turning in his arms and moving his adorable morning hair, tucking it away from his eyes.

"A bit nauseous," he admitted. "It's not as bad as it has been, though."

_Thank heavens for small victories_, Kate thought.

She put her pursed lips against his forehead, planting a long kiss there while also trying to gauge his temperature. He didn't feel overly warm to her, and it was a relief. She moved her lips from his forehead, skating across his face until she claimed his lips with hers again.

"When you do that," he began, "when you kiss me like that, it almost feels like every joint in my body _hasn't _been run over by a truck. It feels like hope," he added, smiling up at her.

They quieted as she ran her fingers through his hair before moving her head from its resting place on his shoulder, sliding up his body until their faces nearly touched again, their eyes fixated on one another.

Castle broke the silence first, his lips touching hers so softly that she wasn't sure if she had actually felt it. Their panting breaths had quieted as they settled back into each other, hands roaming as they both thought so loudly.

"Did you know that I haven't written a word for Nikki and Rook? Not since all of this started," he admitted, breaking their silence. "For the first time, I have no idea what to do with them."

Kate touched her fingers to his forehead, slowly trailing them down his face and over his lips. "First of all, of course I noticed that you haven't been writing. I haven't seen you pull your laptop out in days, but you really shouldn't be expected to right now, Rick."

He opened his mouth, but before words could form and make their way out of his mouth, Kate spoke again, having raised herself up on an elbow, looking down at him, her head off the pillow.

"Wait a minute," Kate probed. "Is Paula pressuring you for work right now? Is Black Pawn throwing deadlines at you?"

He shook his head at her, smiled at her defensiveness, at the protective tone in her voice. "They don't know yet," he shrugged.

Kate laid her head back down, her hand back on his cheek. "You need to give yourself a break, Castle. You take care of everything, of everyone. You give so much of yourself, but you so rarely allow yourself to take any of it for you." Her voice was soft and loving, but held an edge of truth as their noses touched, their faces remaining close.

"You aren't the only one who has been neglecting their work, Rick," Kate said, turning over onto her back. Rick lifted his head so that he could still see her face, so that he could read what she was hiding. "What do you mean, Kate?" he asked, his voice sounding confused and concerned.

She rubbed her hands down her face, turning her head towards him. She reached her hand up, lacing their fingers together as she began to explain.

"You can't be an effective cop if your entire focus isn't on the case you are working on, on the job you are doing," she said, vaguely, clearly referring to herself, continuing to confuse him as she tried to explain.

"Where is your focus, Kate?" he asked after waiting in vain for her to continue speaking.

She turned to face him again, placing her hand over his heart. "Right here, Castle. It's all right here." She kissed him, starting with his chin and moving up to his mouth, their tongues melding. "_You can't be an effective cop if your entire focus isn't on the case you are working on, on the job in general," _she had said_, and_ it sounded to him like the kind of thing he had seen her beat herself up for so many times over the years. Any less than one hundred percent of her effort, her passion, her emotion and her training had always been unacceptable to her. It had always turned her away from him, as if she had to choose one over the other, and Rick felt a strange combination of the guilt he assumed he should be feeling and the soaring of his heart as he felt something like gratitude as her tongue smoothed deeper into his mouth, seeking out only his connection.

As she slowly pulled herself from him, she kissed him lightly before sitting on the edge of the bed, running her hands through her hair and rubbing her face before standing up and stretching. Rick watched her, her small torso pulling tight, revealing the musculature structure of her abdomen. She laughed at him when she caught him watching, shaking her head as she gave him a warm smile. "You are _such _a creepy bastard, Castle!" she joked, leaning over the mattress to give him one more quick kiss before heading to the shower.

* * *

As Kate dried her body and hair with one of Castle's enormous, fluffy towels, she heard her phone's notification signal, indicating a text message or voicemail. She grabbed her clothes and walked back into Castle's bedroom, wrapped in his towel as she reached for her phone. It was Esposito, letting her know that a body had dropped. Seconds later, a second text from Espo came through, reading "Only if you are up to it, boss. We've got your back. Give Castle our best."

Castle watched her as she slowly moved backwards until her knees hit the mattress. She was speechless, guilt and culpability circling around her head as she thought about how much she had let her team down lately. It seemed that they had begun to expect it, and that reality tore her apart. She was brought back down to earth by the slow feel of Rick's fingers and lips across her naked shoulders. She turned around to face him, her eyes shining with tears that threatened to fall, and let her body collapse towards him. He reached for her, pulling her tight to him as he rubbed her back and whispered in her ear. The strength of his embrace allowed her to relax, to melt into him as she caught her breath, opening her mouth and warming his shoulder with her tongue and teeth as she softly nipped at him there.

"You okay?" he asked as she pulled back from him. She picked up her phone, unlocking it with her password before retrieving the texts from Javier and passing it to Rick. His first thought made him grateful that their partners were considering her wellbeing, her safety. He quickly realized, though, knowing Kate as well as he did, that she did not want to be covered for, she didn't want to make excuses, and most of all, she didn't want to be the weak link.

"I've left the precinct early almost every day for the past week. I open a case file and it's like it's written in code, Castle, and all I can see is you," she said, opening up to him as he pulled her close again. He covered the back of her head with his palm, his mouth hovering at her ear. "I'm sorry, Kate." He said. He couldn't help but own some of the responsibility for her feelings, and knowing that it was affecting her job made him angry at himself, although he couldn't quite justify it, couldn't figure out why.

Kate shook her head against him before pulling back to see his face. "No, Castle. This is me; this is my cross to bear. You hold no blame for any of it," she said, in an attempt to lift his feeling of accountability.

"If it's yours, it's mine," he whispered, and he watched her shake her head again "What are you going to do?" he asked, his voice still so quiet that it was almost inaudible. She moved her hand to his chest, feeling his heart beat beneath her palm. When she looked up at his face again, she wore a smile that glowed and warmed his heart before she pulled him into another hug, her arms stroking across the span of his back and arms.

She spoke against his neck, answering his question despite the uncertainty of her answer. "I'm going to get dressed and I'm going to head to this crime scene and hope that I can stay above water. I'm going to try to get some justice for this victim, and for their family. I'm going to try, _so hard_, to do my job the right way, to leave my baggage at the door," Kate paused briefly, inhaling a sigh as she searched for the words. "I'm going to do everything I can, and then at some point, when the mystery has been solved or we are headed in the right direction, I'm going to leave and I'm going to come home to you."

"_Home."_

She had used the word without pretense. She wasn't asking for half his closet or for an assigned parking spot, they weren't picking out china patterns or rings, but her use of that word had meant so much to him, more than she could ever know.

They had moved their heads together, touching at the keystone of their foreheads. They sat silently, listening to the cadence of their breathing together for several minutes before Rick moved back, the entirety of her face revealed to him.

"You need to go, Kate," said Rick, his voice gentle. "You'll regret it, Kate. I _know_ you. I know how important being a detective is for you." He hooked a finger under her chin, lifting her face so that she could see his eyes, his expression, so she could truly _hear _him. "Go, and then come back to me…" He made it sound so simple.

A chill ran through her veins as she imagined the grief of losing him, of not being there, of sitting at her desk at the precinct with nothing but him on her mind. She knew she would regret_ that_ far more than she would regret stepping back, even if it was just temporarily. She didn't even think that she would regret it if she walked away from it entirely, leaving the 12th behind. She needed time, but it wasn't about alarm clocks or roosters crowing or bells chiming. She needed time with _Castle,_ to take care of him, to touch him, to keep her promise that she would never leave him. Her love was too strong, stronger than she had ever felt before and growing more every day, and she just needed to be with him.

She had decisions to make, factors to take into consideration before she moved in a direction that was so foreign to her, but for today, Castle was right. She had to see if she could focus, keep herself together, while still being effectual as a detective.

As her mind spun in thought, the movement of Rick's hand had stopped. He had settled back against his mattress, making her smile with his light and youthful snoring. More than anything, however, she nearly got on her knees and gave thanks for his restful, if not short lived, periods of sleep.

After dressing, Kate put on skinny blue jeans and a navy jersey, so dark it almost looked black. She pulled her feet into her boots, hobbling around his bedroom while avoiding sitting down, for fear of waking him.

Kate fastened her father's watch to her wrist, looking at it quickly and feeling the familiar weight of the timepiece on her arm. As she looked around the room for anything she might have left behind, she noticed her badge resting on the night table. She fingered the letters and emblems, and her number, 41319 in shining gold relief, turning the badge from side to side until she caught the sun reflected off the badge's brilliant luster. Kate clipped the badge to the pocket of her jeans, realizing how much lighter she was without it. As she prepared to leave his apartment, she bent down to him, slowly and gently carding her fingers through his hair. His eyes opened briefly, his pupils dilated, having just been pulled from his slumber by the feeling of her hands in his hair.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I just wanted to say goodbye. I didn't mean to wake you," she explained as she stroked his cheek with her thumb.

Rick sat up, ignoring a brief spell of dizziness as he looked at Kate. "_Always _wake me," he plead. "Always." The way he spoke, the words he used and how he used them twisted her inside, and she nodded to him. She would make sure to always wake him from now on.

* * *

The case had been cut and dry. Their Vic, who had been found in an alley beside a five star hotel, had been stabbed three times. Lanie was able to identify a prison-style shank found at the scene as a likely murder weapon, and the area was filled with evidence to pass to CSU for analysis.

Kate was practicing an incredible amount of self-awareness while on this scene. She didn't want anyone doing her work for her, and she didn't want to leave early. She didn't want her boys to throw her a rope, she just wanted to do her job and go home.

Detective Esposito jogged to her side as she canvassed the area, looking for anything further that was out of the ordinary. Kate could feel his eyes on her, and it only took a second for her to swing around, her eyes squinted at him as he backed up, both hands in the air.

"What are you doing, Espo? I'm trying to focus," She uttered with a bite, continuing to grill him with her eyes.

"What are you talking about, Beckett?" he denied, but she had always been a much better interrogator than him. Her eyes never faltered, probing him for the truth. He nodded his head, waving his above his head again, as if to say "Okay, I'm done. You've got me."

"_So_?" she asked, waiting for him to be straight with her.

"I'm just lookin' out for you, boss. I'm just making sure you're okay," he answered.

"Great, yeah, I'm ok Espo. I'm fine." Her answer was curt and short, and as she watched him step back from her like she had physically struck him, she spoke again. "Look, I'm sorry Javi. I really appreciate everything. It's just been a tough couple of days so if you don't mind, can we wrap up the small talk so we can all get out of here?"

Javi nodded at Beckett, feeling as though he had been cut down to size. He knew Beckett, though. He knew that her "tough as nails" exterior was a front for a person who was in a lot of pain. It was something he wished he could do something about, but he had learned over the years that caring about Detective Kate Beckett sometimes meant walking away until she was ready to come back on her own accord.

* * *

The case had largely been a breeze. It had practically solved itself, and the suspects had confessed before the shift was even over. Kate watched the clock as she sat at her desk, finishing up neglected paper work from the case she had left behind before scrawling her reports and signature on the pieces from the most recent stack. When the hour hand landed at eight o'clock, she filed her papers away in her desk drawer and wrapped her jacket around her as she prepared to leave.

Checking her cell phone, she saw that she had no missed calls. Rick had called her in the afternoon, and she had called him as she headed back to the precinct, to let him know she was wrapping up. She was surprised at the way her heart pumped in her chest as she realized how much she _missed _him, even though she had woken up with him and spoken to him twice. She had never felt the need to be this connected to a man, and it scared her a bit. It had always scared her, but finally, it exhilarated her much, much more.

The loft was quiet as she used her key to open the door. Just dim fixtures were lit in the kitchen and living area, and she stopped just to hang her keys on the rack, taking a moment to look at her keys hanging with his, with his family's. It was such a small, insignificant thing to notice, but it made her stomach flip as she continued walking, just a bit faster, to his bedroom.

She pulled her boots off in the dark, peeling her jersey off before shimmying out of her jeans. Once she stood in her bra and panties, she pulled the comforter down on the side of the bed opposite him, climbing in and moving towards the middle, closer to him.

"Hey," he said, the thickness of exhaustion on his voice. "I've been waiting for you," he revealed, before draping his arm over her waist and pulling her closer, his nose nuzzling her hair.

"Did you take your sleeping pills?" she asked, trying hard not to sound like a nag.

"Um, no, not yet," he answered. "But they are right here," he said, as he reached towards his night stand in the dark. He sat up, reaching for the little round tablets and a glass of water, before turning to see that she had sat up with him. He could see her lit by the shadows created by the moonlight, and absorbed her gorgeous smile. After he poured the pills toward his throat, swallowing them with two large gulps of water, he was surprised to feel her snake her arms around his waist, pulling him back to the bed with her.

"Thank you for doing that, Rick," she spoke. "I know what you are scared of, but if you feel anything out of the ordinary or don't feel like yourself, we'll fix it. We'll try something else. I just can't watch you give up without even trying."

Rick squeezed her tightly as he listened to her speak, understanding that he wasn't the only one who was afraid. As they relaxed again, falling back against the mattress together and feeling the veil of sleep start to float over both of them, she traced soothing patterns across his arm, listening to the rhythm of his breathing, holding herself from letting go until, as always, she was sure he had fallen asleep.

She smiled, relieved as she finally felt herself sinking into sleep, whispering quiet words in his ear, wrapped completely in comfort and love.

* * *

Castle had woken early, realizing that although the sun was just rising in the morning sky, he had actually slept. Sometimes it took hours to take hold, but the way she touched him and kissed him and whispered in his ear made it so much easier for his body to let go, meds or no meds. As he lay on his back, he raised his arms and bent his fingers, twisted at the waist, and noted the lack of stiffness and ache he had pushed through in the days following his first chemotherapy cycle.

Today, on this morning, he smiled as he moved his body in all the directions he had so quickly gotten used to associating with pain and aches, with sharp shocks to his chest, with the dichotomy of exhaustion and sleeplessness. This morning, however, the discomfort he felt was minimal, and he felt better than he had since this whole ordeal began. Desperate not to jinx it, he stopped himself before considering this a "good day", his mind quickly changing as he moved over Kate as she slept, holding himself up on his elbows.

He touched her sleeping face with the sweep of his thumb before descending his lips over hers, stilling as their lips met, reveling in the intimacy of their proximity as they shared each other's air. Kate closed the miniscule distance between them, her tongue quickly opening his mouth as he cradled the back of her head with his free hand, holding her arching back with the other.

He watched her eyes as the cloudy darkness of her arousal was replaced by something else, another thought, another feeling.

"Are you okay?" Castle asked, moving his body back from the perfect fit of her open legs, searching her face as her eyes locked onto his.

"Are _you _okay?" She echoed back to him, as she swept a hand across his forehead and through his hair.

"Yeah, Kate. Today, for some reason, I'm good, and I wanted to take advantage of it. I wanted to make love to you again."

Kate felt her heart breaking under the weight of his words, and she pulled his mouth to hers again before her face was stained with tears.

They panted in near unison, staccato breaths wrapping them even closer as their rhythms complemented one another and their foreheads met gently as their eyes searched the depths of each other.

"Are you alright, Rick?" she asked again, their bodies connected, covered with a mutual sheen of sweat. "Did you ask the doctor if this was ok?" She had almost kept the question inside her, fearing its inappropriateness, despite the fact that they both knew how much they wanted each other.

Castle shook his head as his mouth danced over her shoulders, making her shudder from the intensity of it. "I didn't ask," he admitted, lifting his head to meet her eyes. "I Googled it," he said, and as she threw her head back in a laugh, he took advantage of her vulnerability, attacking her throat with kisses, then trailing his tongue across her chest and neck until she moaned against him.

"So what did Dr. Google have to say about this topic, Rick?" she said, with an undercut of sarcasm in her voice. She was trying to quell it, her sharp use of joking mockery that was often misunderstood. She had done enough to hurt him already, so she squeezed his torso and kissed his chest, then allowed him to take the lead as he unclasped her bra, pulling it forward and off her shoulders.

They wrapped their arms around each other, tightly holding necks and backs, stroking each other's skin with soft fingers as they joined together. Their eyes locked on each other as they moved, mutually amazed at how _good _they both felt together.

As their bodies unwound, and they caught their breath again, they settled against each other, her head on his shoulder as his arm wrapped around her back. They lay quietly, dropping touches onto one another's skin, soaking in the relief of the morning.

Kate had nearly fallen asleep again, his hands running up and down her arm lulling her into the perfect place between waking and sleep. He shivered as she moved her fingers against his chest, as she tightened the grip of her leg over his. It was the ultimate peace, something that Rick couldn't promise her every morning or night, at least not now. That reality was the worst of it, and he pulled her closer to him as he categorized every sight and sound and smell of the moment, of the miracle that had woken them up so beautifully this morning.

As their breathing sank into a near matching tempo, and Rick nearly joined her in sleep, they were both startled and pulled from each other as Kate's phone rang. She groaned, sitting up and reaching as Rick passed the phone to her. He had caught a glimpse of the caller ID just as Kate had, and they looked at each other with shared curiosity and uneasiness. The screen read "Captain Gates calling", and Kate stood up, wrapping herself in one of his shirts before finally pressing the green "accept" button.

Rick listened to Kate's side of the conversation, realizing quickly that Gates wasn't giving anything away. The quick call consisted of Kate's subordinate responses, phrases like "Yes, Sir. Of course, Sir. I'll be there right away, Sir."

He didn't even bother to ask about the nature of the call, but he watched Kate pace across his bedroom, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. She picked up pieces of clothing off the floor before walking over to her duffel bag. She dressed quickly, and stayed quiet until she sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling her boots on. "Gates wants to see me," she said, finally as she turned around to look at Rick.

"I figured that much," he said, sitting up as she ran a hand through her messy hair. Rick scooted towards her, pulling her back against him as he reached around to pull on of her hair ties off her wrist. He gathered her hair towards him, biting the elastic in his teeth as he divided her curls into three even sections, starting a loose braid at the nape of her neck.

She leaned into him, her anxiety immediately settled as she allowed him to do this for her. She closed her eyes as he pulled gently, and she wondered for a moment how he knew how to do this before quickly picturing Alexis' beautiful, long tresses. She nearly cried as she imagined him doing for his daughter what most fathers couldn't, and in that moment, she loved him impossibly more.

He patted her head before moving back, admiring his handiwork. Kate stood up, turning her head as she looked in the mirror, touching her hair softly. She turned around and flashed him a smile before walking to him at his side of the bed. "Thank you," she said before gently placing a kiss on his mouth.

As she stood again, grabbing her bag before leaving the bedroom, she turned to him. "I love you, Rick," she said, taking note of the intense blue of his eyes. "I love you, too," he responded. "Always." She left the bedroom, heading towards the front door, his words having given her the push to face the uncertainty that was waiting for her.

* * *

After lying on his bed, stretched across the absurdly large plot for nearly a half hour, he realized that sleep apparently had better things to do than to throw him another bone. He didn't really want to nap now anyway, not while he was feeling more than weakness, sickness, and fatigue. He missed dreaming, so often disappearing into his unconscious to collapse into a vision that included her, that included everything but cancer.

He pulled himself out of bed, hearing his joints pop as he stretched. Most days, it felt like his bones and joints were constantly rubbing raw against each other. Today it all had softened, however, and he tried so hard to concentrate on _that _feeling.

He felt and heard his stomach, so loud and distracting. A constant reminder of how fucking _hungry _he was, followed by the realization that he hadn't kept much down in days. It was absolutely maddening, but still a blessing to feel only that particular symptom today. He pulled on a pair of jeans over his boxer shorts, and threw a t-shirt over his head, feeling the need to be dressed despite the fact that he had absolutely no plans to go anywhere. It just made him feel more productive than moping around in pajamas. It made him feel less sick, and more human.

Rick made his way out to the kitchen, smiling when he saw Alexis, her bright red hair shining under the reflection of the sun. She smiled back at her father as she unwrapped a granola bar, joining him at the table.

"How are you feeling, Dad?" she asked.

He ruffled his fingers through her hair, laughing as she pulled away. "Dad!" She repeated again. "How are you feeling?" Her words were more serious this time. No jokes, no deference.

Rick sighed. "Honestly pumpkin, I don't feel that bad today. I got some sleep last night, which was _amazing_," he said. "It's so easy to downplay the need for sleep until it all of a sudden stops coming around."

Alexis looked concerned, her brow furrowed in thought. She had always been protective of him, perhaps as much as he was for her, despite the fact the fact that they both knew full well that Alexis was the responsible one in the family. It was an incredible relief to have been blessed with such an amazing daughter.

If he thought hard, he could see her as a tiny little newborn. He had been so terrified, especially when he found out that he would be raising his daughter by himself, but he loved her immediately. It was trial and error for a while, as he tried to figure out what he could _possibly _give to this beautiful little girl, but they stuck by each other, taking care of one another. Rick learned from a toddling Alexis that love was the only commodity that truly meant anything.

"What about food?" Alexis asked, pulling him from his daydream. "Have you been eating?" She stared him down, her chin in her palm, held up by her elbow.

He felt like he was attending his own inquisition, but he would answer any question she had. That had been their policy for years and he had always taught her that the truth was almost always preferable over the consequences of not being honest. He had an open door policy, wanting her to know that picking up the phone would never be the wrong thing and that he would always be there. He would drop anything to get to her.

"Alexis, I am so ridiculously hungry," he shared. "I've never been so hungry, but so repelled by food at the same time. I feel like a pregnant woman."

Alexis laughed at him, moving her hand to touch his stomach. "So Detective Beckett finally knocked you up, Dad?" She joked.

"Yes, daughter of mine, that is just _hilarious_," he responded, slapping his knee in mock amusement.

Alexis got up from the table, walking around and into the kitchen. She threw her wrapper away, and then he watched as she pulled out the blender, a carton of chocolate ice cream, yogurt, some milk and the container of protein powder that Kate had left over.

"What 'cha making, Lex?" Rick asked.

"You'll see," she said, turning around and smiling at him.

Rick leaned back in his chair as he continued to watch Alexis put her concoction together, filling the blender about a third full with ice cubes before adding the other ingredients. As the blender whirred to life, Alexis watched closely as the mixture changed consistency and the ice cubes broke apart. Finally, after pulsing the blades a few times for good measure, she turned the blender off and unplugged it. She pulled two glasses from the cabinet, standing them side by side before pouring from the blender pitcher.

Alexis grabbed the glasses, and then walked back over to the table, placing one in front of her father.

"What's this?" he asked, looking up at her, then following her face as she sat down.

"It's a chocolate milkshake, Dad. I just had a feeling. It's not _food_, so to speak, but it's got calories and fat. I also threw some protein in there. Just try it," she prodded, pushing the glass closer to him.

Rick Castle had never been a man to say no to a chocolate milkshake, so he shrugged his shoulders and picked up the glass. As he let the cool, flavorful treat coat his throat, his eyes nearly rolled back into his head. It was probably the best thing he had ever tasted, delicious in its own right, but even more so after having gone so many days without savoring something like this.

"Like it?" Alexis asked, her mouth spread out in a wide grin.

"It's amazing, Lex," he said. His hope now was that he would be able to keep it down, to push the nausea that threatened to blanket him away.

His daughter smiled as she watched him drink his milkshake. Being hungry, but unable to eat sounded like one of the worst things she could think of, and she offered up a distraction before her father could see the tears about to fall.

"Wanna watch a movie?" Alexis asked, already tugging him towards the couch.

He couldn't think of anything he would rather do in that moment. He had dreaded heading back to his bedroom, tossing and turning as he thought about all the things he had no control over. He followed his daughter, falling next to her as she grabbed the remote.

"What are we watching?" he asked, pulling her head to his shoulder and kissing the top of her head.

"_Bridesmaids_, Dad," she said as she pressed play on the remote. "Let's laugh."

As he watched the movie with Alexis, laughing heartily with her, he realized that more than an hour had passed since he had finished Alexis' milkshake. His stomach had stayed at rest, and he hadn't felt more than a ping of nausea. He felt as though he had found the Holy Grail, or that his daughter had _made _the Holy Grail for him, in a blender.

Alexis had noticed it too, realizing as the credits rolled that her Dad hadn't gotten up once. It inspired a celebratory feeling, and she hugged him hard before kissing him on the cheek. Castle kissed her forehead, mussing her hair up with his hands again. He likely would never stop doing that, even when she was married with children of her own. He looked forward to it.

As Alexis ran upstairs to her room, Rick called after her. She stopped and turned towards him, his hand over his heart. "Alexis," he began, dramatics in his voice. "I don't think I could ever repay you for starting me on a magical chocolate milkshake diet."

Alexis made a face at him, and then smiled as she continued up the stairs. "Oh, Dad, I'm sure there are plenty of things you could do to repay me. A car, maybe?"

"You live in Manhattan, Alexis! You don't have any need for a car!" he yelled after her. "I'll get you a Metro pass!"

As he looked out his picture window at the city he loved, he realized he felt lighter this afternoon, and he tried to put a tight hold on the feeling, because he knew that every day wouldn't be like this.

* * *

Kate stopped in the first floor locker room upon entering the precinct, taking a second to smooth her hair, smiling at Castle's handiwork as she collected herself. She knew why she was here. She knew she would have to do some explaining, but she had put it aside, prioritized behind Castle and how miserable he was, how sick he had been. Her attendance had been spotty, and she had barely left his side for much more than a shower, aside from yesterday. Even when he said "Kate, go", more often than not, she had stayed.

She searched for Ryan and Esposito as she walked through the bull pen, disappointed at not seeing them. They were likely at a scene, where she should be. Where Castle should be.

She stood outside Captain Gates' office, hobbling from right foot to left nervously. She nodded as the Captain made eye contact with her through the slats in the blinds and motioned for her to come inside.

"Captain," she said, a hello wrapped in a formality. Kate played with her fingers in her lap as she waited for her superior to speak.

"Detective Beckett," Captain Gates began. After an eternal pause of 9 seconds (Kate had counted), Gates continued. "Detective, since it looks like you aren't going to come clean with me, about _whatever _is going on, I'll just come right out and ask you why your attendance over the last week and a half has been sporadic at best? Perhaps you could also tell me why Detectives Ryan and Esposito have spent half of their shifts with their necks craned towards _my _office, and why they always have a laundry list of excuses for _your _whereabouts? Detective Beckett?

Shit.

She knew why she was here, it was no surprise, but what was she supposed to do with _that_? What was she supposed to say?

She always did this, though. Kate bit her lip as she saw in front of her yet another consequence for her inability to handle the tough truths in her own life. It had kept her apart from Castle until the man got a friggin' _cancer _diagnosis. She shook her head, if only at her own destructive routines before lifting her eyes to meet Captain Gates'.

"Sir, I apologize for my… lack of… connection to my work recently. I-"she began before Captain Gates interrupted her.

"No, Detective Beckett. I did not call you in here for an apology. They are a dime a dozen and they've rarely solved any problems in my precinct. I want an explanation. I want to know what is going on with my detectives. You can also tell me where your partner has been as well."

Kate cursed herself again for her lack of _words._ In front of a suspect, with someone's life in the balance, she had mastered a perfect dance brought together by the way she moved, her tone of voice, her use of eye contact, her _words._ It was one of the first things that had drawn Castle to her. She was like the most effective of orators in the interrogation room, and the things she said, the way she said them made all the difference between solving a case and losing one.

"Detective," Captain Gates said again, her arms crossed in front of her, a perfect poker face.

Kate sighed, again meeting the Captain's stare. Finally, after cracking her neck to buy another second, she spoke.

"Sir, I have neglected my responsibilities here, and the only reason I can give is that I've had other… commitments elsewhere. I know how that sounds and I don't _make _excuses, so I'm not trying to make one now. My partner, Castle, was recently diagnosed with cancer. He started his first cycle of chemotherapy a few days ago and I've spent a lot of time with his family, with him."

Captain Gates' posture loosened slightly, and her head cocked a bit to the side, released from its arrow straight position. "Detective, I still don't understand why this is something that Mr. Castle couldn't have informed me of? Why is this a secret that involves not only you but your colleagues?"

"Sir, it was wrong of me to involve Esposito and Ryan, to expect them to… cover for me, but the circumstances… I couldn't…"

"Detective Beckett, are you and Richard Castle romantically involved?"

Beckett was shocked at the directness of her question. She wasn't beating around the bush, and Kate realized that she couldn't either. The Captain saw right through her.

Kate nodded her head, running her hand through her hair before answering. "Yes, Sir. Castle and I are involved."

The Captain shook her head, absorbing the information that Detective Beckett had just revealed, surprised at the confirmation, but not the information. She had observed the way the two worked together, as close as any set of partners she had ever seen. She had seen partners cross that invisible line many times over the years. She had experienced it herself, even. It was exceptionally difficult to work with someone day in and day out, developing a closeness that was at times unspoken, more real and intimate than almost any other relationship. It was incredibly irresponsible, but it was human nature. It was the search for emotional connection in the darkest of places.

Kate could feel her heart beating in her chest as she watched Captain Gates. The woman had paused, and Kate felt like she was on the end of a short rope, unsure of what kind of surface she would land on. Would she be cradled by the softness of a lover's touch, or would she land without cushioning, hitting hard on the cracked, New York blacktop?

She felt herself holding her breath until she saw the Captain shift, returning her gaze to Kate. "How is Castle?" Gates asked.

Kate was surprised at the question. Before Gates could continue with the ambush, her voice softened, and she was no longer talking about rules and policy and attendance and secrets, she was talking about life. She was talking about the life of someone who, as much as the Captain hated to admit it, was a part of the NYPD, and quite obviously a part of the lives of those he worked with.

"Today seems to be a better day, but the first chemotherapy treatment did a number on him, and hasn't been sleeping well, barely eating. It's been difficult on him, on all of us."

Gates' nodded, a sliver of sympathy materializing on her face.

"Please give Castle my best, Beckett," Gates said. Kate nodded at the request. She would tell him, despite the fact that she was sure he likely wouldn't believe her.

"As for you, Detective Beckett, this is a perfect example of why romantic relationships are discouraged among partners in the NYPD. Something happens to one partner, and the other is debilitated, both physically and mentally. Do you see the domino effect of this, Detective?"

Kate nodded, "Of course, Sir. It wasn't something I anticipated or planned, and I certainly never meant to involve Esposito and Ryan. All I can say about them is that they are among the best the NYPD has to offer. They work hard, they risk their lives, and they are fiercely loyal. It's why they covered for me the way they have, and I am asking you, please, not to punish them."

Victoria Gate's squinted her eyes at Kate while unconsciously twisting a pen between her fingers.

"I wasn't planning on reprimanding them any more than I already have. They are working today, so I would say I went pretty easy on them," she responded. "Now, I need you to tell me what _you _are capable of. What _you _can commit to. I need you here, at least when you say you'll be. So what do you need?"

Captain Gates had laid it all on the table, the answer in Kate's hand. She had no idea what she needed, what she wanted. Did she want to walk out? Quit her job? Take a leave of absence?

"Sir," she began, closing her eyes while trying to control the quake in her voice. "Sir, what I need is to be able to be with Castle when necessary, when he is alone or has a doctor's appointment. I need to be able to get to him. I need to…" her voice petered out as she looked back at the Captain. Were these unreasonable requests? They sounded ridiculous to Kate, mostly because she had never felt something that made her feel like her job was secondary. Her priorities had shifted gradually, glacially before suddenly flipping completely.

Captain Gates moved forward in her chair, practically hovering over her desk as she bored her eyes into Kate's. "What do you _need_, Detective?" Gates asked. "I'm not going to sit here and allow you to put that decision on me. _You _need to figure it out. What I can't have is your inconsistent presence here over the last few days. I can't have you trying to solve murders while your head is otherwise occupied. It's too damn dangerous, and you know it, Detective."

Kate nodded her head at the Captain before looking up at the ceiling, trying to will her tear ducts from spilling over the cliff of her bottom eyelids.

"I need to be a cop," Kate stated, her voice breaking. "It's the only thing I know how to do. It's the only thing I've ever been good at." She paused, her voice cracking as she spoke. "Sir, I'm a _better _detective because of Richard Castle. I think we all are, our team," she said.

"So what are you telling me, Detective Beckett?"

"I only have it in me to put my full focus into one case right now," she said, vaguely. Despite the pretense, the Captain didn't need to question her further to understand what she was getting at. "Sir," Kate continued, "I would like to use some of the vacation time I have accrued. There is plenty there, and I owe him this. I owe him everything," she spoke solemnly. "Just a few days, a week or so, until we have a better idea of where Castle is with his treatment."

Kate's nerves pulsed on overdrive as she waited for the Captain to answer her. She hadn't walked into Gates' office with the intention of asking for a vacation, effectively a leave, but she knew she wasn't helping Ryan and Espo. They had things under control, and she had only found herself getting in their way lately. She would be back, sooner rather than later, she knew it, but she couldn't show up for her boys and only give fifty percent.

It mortified Kate to think of her lack of effectiveness, commitment, communication. It scared her to imagine _not _standing at the murder board with her team, working til the building cleared out, and after. What terrified her more was the idea of standing in the bullpen while Castle lay twisted and sweating at home, alone and despondent.

Kate interrupted the static silence while waiting for Gates' to show her cards. "I've done the wrong thing so many times, Captain. I'm trying so hard, both personally and professionally to change that habit. So, right now, it would be wrong of me to commit to my team, to our cases if everything I have isn't in it. It would also be wrong of me to leave my partner while he's down."

"One week," the Captain said. "I don't want to see you in my precinct for one week, and then I want you to come back and see me, let me know where you stand."

Kate nodded, unsure of the Captain's wording. Gates sensed the confusion and spoke again. "Your job is safe, Beckett. You're one of the best I have." Kate stood, a closed mouth smile on her face as she headed toward the door, nodding at the Captain.

"Oh, and Detective Beckett?" Gates called out. "Yes, Sir?" she asked, turning around.

"Detective, if I find out about you keeping anything like this from me again, you'll be getting a lot more than a week off. Do we understand each other?"

"Yes, Sir," she replied, again heading for the door.

"Give Castle my best," Captain Gates added before Kate was out of hearing range, and she smiled at the Captain again, nodding before heading out of the precinct.

* * *

Kate ran up the stairs to her apartment, trying to beat the panic rising inside of her. She expected solace behind the door, locked and secure, but as she looked around the extent of the space, the silence was deafening and the loneliness was overwhelming. The safety and independence that she had associated with _her _home had been replaced by longing and the desperate pull of him.

She tried to talk herself out of it, of turning into "that" girl as she sat down on her couch, waiting for the comfort to come. She stayed put, frustrated with herself, with the instantaneous realization that her comfort was not in this apartment anymore.

It was wherever _he _was, and she stopped fighting with herself about it as she grabbed her bag and left her apartment, locking it behind her.

Before she knew it, she had made her way to the Chelsea Piers. It was one of her favorite spots in the city, covered in a green blanket of grass and surrounded by water. Places like these had kept her from falling during her darkest days. The ground had absorbed her tears and now she just sat, her knees pulled up to her chin as she held her legs, looking out over the water, her eyes following a line of kayakers.

Her phone rang, and she glanced down at it on the ground next to her. She smiled to see that Castle was calling, and quickly picked up the phone and accepted the call.

"Hey!" she said, excitedly, the end of her greeting sliding up an octave.

"Hey yourself, Kate! How did it go with the Captain?" He asked.

She laughed softly, inside her chest at the loaded question. "It was definitely interesting. Unexpected."

His curiosity grew as he wondered about the state of her job, worried for her.

Kate sighed. This was a conversation she would have much preferred to have in person. "How are you feeling, Castle?" she asked.

"Today is _still _a good day, Kate. Oh, listen to this! Alexis made me a milkshake, and I inhaled the entire thing. I haven't gotten sick once. It's a good day, and I can officially say that I am on the milkshake treatment program."

She smiled into the phone at the excitement in his voice. "_That _is amazing, Rick," she said, utter sincerity in her tone. "I love you, Rick," she added, trying to hide the break in her voice.

"I love you, Kate," he responded, wondering if he would ever get used to being able to say that to her, to hearing her say it back. "Where are you?" he asked, listening to the sounds of children playing in the background.

"I'm at the piers. Just sitting. Thinking."

"Do you want company?" he asked.

"I would love some," she answered enthusiastically. "Are you sure you're alright? I could just come back to you."

She could hear him grab his keys and lock the door behind him. "It's a _good day_, Kate!" he said again. "I'll see you in a few?"

"See you soon, Castle," she said before hanging up the phone.

_It's a good day._

He had been holding onto it since they had awakened together in such an amazing way. He had been desperately trying to mark this day in every way, because he wasn't sure when he would get another one.

Kate had sat in silence, her mind doing the talking as she looked out over the water, taking in the vast size of the barges. She was surprised when she felt his lips on her cheek, but quickly turned around to take his face in her hands, moving her lips over his.

He moved to sit behind her, pulling her into the vee of his legs, her back coming to rest against his chest.

"So are you going to tell me what happened with Gates?" he asked, his lips touching her ear as he spoke.

"She asked if we were 'romantically involved'"

"And what did you say?" he wondered, cringing while imagining such an awkward conversation.

"I told her the truth. I told her that I needed time."

"Time for what?" he asked, scared of her answer.

Kate pulled his arms so that they wrapped around her waist, leaning even further into him, her face flush with his chest.

"I told her that I couldn't commit to my job duties right now. I told her that I couldn't split my focus."

Rick hated how vague she could be, how he often had to pull and prod to get her to just _speak_.

"_You_ are my case, Rick. You are where my focus is, where it needs to be. Priorities change, I guess."

"Kate, did you quit?" His voice was soft and rough and concerned.

"No, Rick. I didn't quit," she answered. "I took some time. A week. For us." She turned so that she was facing him, her knees crossed in between his legs. She could see the thoughts bottlenecking as his open mouth produced no sound.

"Don't fight me on this, Rick. It's the right thing to do, I promise."

Rick nodded at her, closing his mouth. As long as she was honest with him, he could take anything she dished out.

They walked slowly, heading back towards his loft. She watched him out of the corner of her eye, making sure he was okay. She was prepared to grab a cab at any moment, but they just kept walking. Her hand reached between them, lacing her fingers with his, mirroring the smile he flashed at her. She loved seeing him framed by sunlight, the way his hands moved when he spoke, the way he turned to her when he was particularly excited.

The further they walked, she realized that she was the one who would need a cab that afternoon. She stretched her legs as she leaned against a newspaper machine, exhausted from the day. She watched him as he hailed a cab for them, and for an instant she saw him as completely healthy, having trouble believing that it wasn't so.

As the cab pulled onto the road, Rick opened the back door for Kate as he gave the address to the cabbie. Once he joined her in the back seat, she laid her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes as he held her head against him, stroking down over her braid, heading home together.

It was a good day.

* * *

_3 Days Later_

As Rick and Kate walked together towards the oncology department at Mount Sinai, their hands laced together, they quietly but mutually prepared for what they knew was to come again. There would be more nausea and sleeplessness, depression and fatigue. It would hang a veil of darkness over them for a day or two or more. Despite the haze of uncertainty, however, they were quickly learning that life now consisted of good moments captured like lightning in a bottle, fleeting amongst hours and days of barely getting by, barely holding on, held hostage by frustration. Most days were long, relentless, sleepless and painful, and a few were terrible, torturous and agonizing.

About as many days however, randomly peppered the uncertain landscape that lay before them were light surprises, where there was laughter and love and he felt good, almost _normal_. Rick and Kate made love and walked through Central Park. He laughed with his mother, and he surprised his daughter, sneaking up on her to grab her from behind where she sat on the couch, taking her to the floor in a playful takedown.

These days, few and far between, served to remind him of what he was fighting for, to remind him that he was much more than just a "sick" man. These days made the many others just a bit more bearable, and he never forgot that he was a father, a partner, a boyfriend, a friend and a son first, before any diagnosis.

**A/N: As those of you who have read the story in its entirety up to now, I have drawn a lot from my own experience with losing my father to cancer. During the first few chemotherapy treatments **_**he **_**received, the only thing he could keep down were milkshakes. It was such a relief to him and to my brother and I, and it's something I have never forgotten. I could absolutely imagine Alexis doing the same for Rick… Thanks again for reading. Chapter 9 is in the works. :D**


	9. Chapter 9

**Patient - Chapter 9**

**Summary: Rick remains frustrated at his condition, and Kate offers support by sharing something meaningful with him. They discuss their secrets, sharing the dark truths in order to lift at least a bit of the burden off their shoulders. Castle faces the possibility of his condition **_**not **_**improving as quickly as he would like. Kate shares with an old confidant and Martha provides unorthodox treatment ideas.**

**Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Castle, ABC, Andrew Marlowe or any of their creative property. No misuse or ownership is implied or intended.**

**Author's Notes: First of all, I apologize for how long it has taken me to get this chapter up. I hope the length will make up for that, but thank you all for being patient with me. I am a graduate student as well as a freelance writer, and therefore have at least a hundred pages assigned to me every week. **

**I have been taking this chapter on in bits and pieces, creating a detailed outline so that I didn't lose any of the elements to the demands of the story. I don't want any of the characters and the scenarios to get lost, so I have tried very hard to keep them connected appropriately.**

**This has absolutely been the most difficult chapter to write, and I think it is because of all of the character elements, as well as the fine balance between writing a love story and writing about Rick's illness and how it affects everyone around him. There has to be a natural space for both. **

**I am also expanding the time element starting a bit with this chapter. We are nearly 150 pages in, and we are looking into a story that has lasted just weeks, if that. Those of us who have loved someone who has been affected by cancer know that the disease and the treatment are far from quick fixes. After this chapter, some longer time jumps will be necessary, and I plan to attack them with as much devotion as I have every single word up until where we are now.**

**Thanks again for your support and your interest. Reviews are awesome.**

**xsteph**

_As Rick and Kate walked together towards the oncology department at Mount Sinai, their hands laced together, they quietly but mutually prepared for what they knew was to come again. There would be more nausea and sleeplessness, depression and fatigue. It would hang a veil of darkness over them for a day or two or more. Despite the haze of uncertainty, however, they were quickly learning that life now consisted of good moments captured like lightning in a bottle, fleeting amongst hours and days of barely getting by, barely holding on, held hostage by frustration. Most days were long, relentless, sleepless and painful, and a few were terrible, torturous and agonizing._

_About as many days however, randomly peppered the uncertain landscape that lay before them were light surprises, where there was laughter and love and he felt good, almost normal. Rick and Kate made love and walked through Central Park. He laughed with his mother, and he surprised his daughter, sneaking up on her to grab her from behind where she sat on the couch, taking her to the floor in a playful takedown. _

_These days, few and far between, served to remind him of what he was fighting for, to remind him that he was much more than just a "sick" man. These days made the many others just a bit more bearable, and he never forgot that he was a father, a boyfriend, a friend and a son first, before any diagnosis._

Kate rubbed Castle's back and placed her warm lips against the back of his neck, feeling the salty sweat that layered his skin as he vomited into the insufficient pink bucket the nurse had brought him. Rick wanted to rip the IV out of his arm, feeling tethered and trapped to the spot. The only thing that brought him back to earth and eased the tearing nausea in his stomach was her. Her hands, her voice, her presence.

When he caught his breath again, leaning back into the chair, Kate reached for the hair at his forehead, slick with perspiration. She brushed it to the side with the pad of her thumb before moving her hand to trace the lines and contours of his face, their eyes locking as she touched him.

She moved her hand away as she watched his eyes droop and his head lob to the side. She leaned back entirely, lightly lifting her legs to lay them on top of the armrest of his chair. She was more than happy to watch him as his eyes relaxed and his body fell into the cushion of the chair. It was so much better than watching him sick, struggling, hurting. Kate wasn't used to not being able to find an answer with enough diligence and commitment and information, but with this, she could do nothing, and _that _tore her apart.

She was still trying to figure out how to be the strong one without a Glock and a vest of Kevlar, and it frustrated the hell out of her, made her feel like she was lacking in some very important area, like she would never be good enough for him. They had had this conversation before, and he always did his best to refuel her heart with promises that she believed, that she trusted in. He was the most sincere person she had ever met, so she believed him when he held her by the arms, practically shaking her, guiding her to just let go and _trust_. When he told her every reason why he thought she was the strongest person he had ever met, she believed him. They were both stubborn, but she believed every word he said, or at least she believed that he meant them. There were some subjects that they hadn't yet broached, and she knew that those discussions scared them both. She also knew that they were coming. They would have to talk about them. Her continued silence was not fair, and she knew that honesty and trust were going to have to be the cornerstones of this relationship. She owed him that. She owed _them_ that and they both deserved it. It was their best shot at a life together.

A sharp gasp pulled her from her thoughts, and as she lifted her head to look at Castle, his eyes were wide with panic as his head turned, searching for the pink container that was already in Kate's hands. They met in the middle, as he reached and she pushed the basin towards him.

"Damn," she thought as she watched him bend forward, his arm attached to the IV. The sound that accompanied his heaves and retches reached deep inside of her, and she braced herself, cringing at every sound. She rubbed his back again, whispering quiet words of endearment, but feeling utterly helpless as she realized that there was nothing she could do for him right now, nothing she could say in this moment. Not a thing she could say or do at all.

Rick remained hunched over, although the twisting in his stomach had stopped for the time being. He felt awful, his nausea the worst he had experienced so far, and it had come on much quicker this time. He had figured that it would follow the same routine, and that he would be able to predictably expect the grip of nausea to come, as if he could hold on tightly enough to push past at least some of the feeling if he knew when it was likely to arrive.

He remained leaning downward, his forearms resting on his knees. The worst feelings were not necessarily physical, but it continued to be the shame and humiliation that had wrapped around him, keeping him from even looking at her, despite how similar their feelings were. He felt her hand move from his back, maintaining contact between her fingers and his skin as she moved to his face. She kneeled down to him, reaching for his cheeks and feeling his resistance. "Look at me, Rick," she said calmly, waiting him out until he finally lifted his head, tears staining his eyes. The sound of him panting as if he had just run up all of the stairwells in the hospital made her body clench, and it was a sad, uncomfortable feeling.

Kate rubbed the wetness on his face before wrapping her arms around his head and pulling him to her, fitting his face into her shoulder. She could feel the heat of his breath and his tears against the skin of her neck, could hear the way his breath caught into a silent vibrato. She moved her fingers through his hair, spreading them through the soft, dark thickness, pretending not to notice that it was drier and more brittle. It was another side effect of the treatment that had no certain outcome, and that left evidence of its toxicity all over and inside his body. Kate shook her head at her racing thoughts, her fingers continuing to curl through his hair, massaging his scalp.

She could hear and feel his breathing even out and slow down, and encouraged him further by tracing circles around his head and across his shoulders. Kate leaned her head backwards, closing her upward facing eyes as she breathed through the intensity of this, of all of it. She pulled herself back down to earth when she heard the door open, revealing Martha and Alexis. Kate noticed right away that Alexis was shocked and overwhelmed by the sight of her father hunched against Kate, his IV attached and still dripping medication into his body.

"Is he okay?" Alexis asked, panic revealed in her voice, her pale cheeks flushed with emotion and surprise.

"He's okay, Alexis. He's just not feeling well. It's been a tough cycle today," said Kate, trying her hardest to keep her voice even and strong, to reassure Castle's daughter and mother, or to at least not lose it in front of them. It was a difficult task to take on, particularly because of her own fears and her own experience with the loss, the deterioration of a parent. Kate had lost her mother in the most traumatic way she could imagine, and the images from the scene were burned into her memory, showing up often, haunting her. In the wake of Johanna Beckett's murder, Kate had watched her father fall headlong into the bottle, existing physically but not present, not connected. He was lost in a sea of grief that made it impossible for him to be the supportive father that she had needed. She had effectively lost two parents for the price of one, and it was during that time that Kate Beckett learned that she operated best as a solitary creature, spending most of her time locked in her room, either fiercely journaling or strumming her guitar or sobbing into her pillow, muting the sounds of her tears with jazz and blues records so that her father wouldn't hear her.

Jim Beckett, her father, was the life she had saved, and if Rick needed saving, she knew that Alexis would always be his Rock of Gibraltar, that she would run alongside Kate if it meant keeping her father out of harm's way. Alexis would be strong and devoted, despite her fears. Kate ran her fingers through Rick's hair again, scratching at his scalp as she watched Alexis struggle with her emotions, the feeling of helplessness written all over her face. Kate was finding it challenging to adjust her isolative tendencies to absorb these intense, private moments. In being committed to Castle, however, she knew that Alexis and Martha came as part of the package, and she was more than okay with that. Truthfully, the ready-made family was a gift that she often felt that she didn't deserve. She felt like she had her chance, and had let them down by breaking Rick Castle's heart time and again.

Kate's fingers slowed, then came to rest, curled at the back of his neck where his skin met his hairline. She gave him a light shake while whispering for him to wake up. "Castle, Alexis and your mother are here. Do you think you can sit up?" Her voice was gentle, but she felt his response almost immediately, heard him mumbling in that adorable post-slumber voice she had already come to love.

"Hey Sweetie," Rick said as he sat up, his voice thick with exhaustion and lingering nausea, as well as heavy duty pharmaceuticals. He reached for his daughter, his outstretched arm pulling at his IV and igniting the joint pain that had joined his list of symptoms. He hissed at the sensation and watched Alexis pull backwards, afraid to touch him, afraid he might break.

Rick settled back into his chair, patting the arm rest as he looked again at Alexis. Her eyes darted from her father to Kate and back again, uncertain and uncomfortable. Finally, when the tension in the room felt as though it could be cut with a knife, Alexis took the spot on the lounger, resting her head back, next to her father's.

"How are you, kiddo?" his mother asked, her voice containing that perpetual tone that was just so "Martha". She had lived a life that had taught her about love and loss, loyalty, priority, family. She had learned that negativity was a road block in nearly all situations, so she avoided it at all costs, especially when it came to her tight little family. Despite the knot she felt in her stomach at the sight of his suffering, she tried her hardest to set that aside. She wouldn't let those feelings rent space in the tiny piece of real estate that existed in her heart, in her head. Not today, not ever. She would never give up on her Richard and on the unorthodox family that meant so much to her.

"I'm fine, Mother," Castle responded, unconvincingly. "I mean, I feel like shit, but I couldn't be among better company," he said, turning his head to smile at Alexis. She smiled back at her father, her pearly white teeth contrasting against her golden-red locks, but it was a ruse. He could see how uncomfortable she was, how many questions she had. It killed him that he didn't have the answers he felt she deserved. He knew how pale he looked, and how prominent the bags under his eyes had gotten. He had lost enough weight to warrant poking two extra holes on his belt and tying the string at the waistband of his sweatpants extra tight, and he knew that Alexis _knew _all of that, but she hadn't yet seen him in the harsh hospital lighting, exhausted, uncomfortable all over, and hours worth of chemicals. She hated what she saw, and had to fight the urge to look away from him so that he wouldn't see her tears.

Kate stood suddenly, stretching her arms above her head, her joints popping all over her upper body. Rick watched as her shirt rode up as she reached, feeling his heart pound in his chest at the sight of her taut muscles. Even in the cloudiest of moments, she would always have that effect on him.

"I'm going to see if I can grab something decent in the cafeteria," Kate announced. "Anybody want anything?" she asked, looking around the room. Martha shook her head, thanking Kate for the gesture. As she headed towards the door, Alexis stood up quickly, covering the distance so that she was standing just behind Kate as she held the knob in her hand.

"I'm going to go with Kate," Alexis said. "I'm feeling kinda hungry." Rick smiled and nodded at his daughter before moving his head to look at Kate, his eyes shining at her. "Have fun, you two," he said. "You should play that hospital cafeteria game! You know, the one where you try to find at least one item that is actually edible? Be competitive!" Kate and Alexis rolled their eyes at him simultaneously, sharing the love they had for this sometimes ridiculous, but always beautiful and selfless man.

Once Kate and Alexis were out of the room, the door clicking closed behind them, Martha and Rick began to talk.

"So, how have you been sleeping, darling?" asked Martha. "Have you been eating?"

Rick shrugged at the questions, thinking for a moment before answering. "Sleep comes and goes. Sometimes my mind just spins in circles, and that coupled with the physical stuff makes it pretty hard most nights," he responded. "Appetite sucks, most of the time. Alexis has been making these amazing milkshakes that are pretty much the only thing I can keep down. Some days are better than others, though, and I'm alive so I'm just trying really, really hard to be grateful for that. To be grateful for my family, and for Kate."

"And how is Kate, Richard?" Martha asked, her fingers tapping in anticipation. What she _really _had intended to ask was "How are _you_ and Kate?" She wanted more specifics than just those that related to Kate's wellbeing, and Rick knew it. She expected every detail as she watched her son's lips turn upwards before he lifted his eyes to meet hers. She got her answer in the bright glow that his eyes took on, and that distraction was a relief.

"Kate is… everything. It's like a dream that I've woken up from a million times before, except its _real_," he said, emphasizing his words as if reciting a fairy tale. "I love her, and she loves me, too," he continued, shaking his head in wonder. "That's the most unbelievable part, Mother. That's the part that makes this whole thing so much easier to navigate."

"That's wonderful, Richard, and it's about damn time. I adore Kate, and so does Alexis. Of all the times for the two of you to get on the same track, I'm so glad it's now. You both need each other more than ever, now."

Rick nodded at his mother, a smile still painting his lips. "I _do _need her," he said. "Sometimes it scares me though. The extent of the need, the want. I find myself stepping so lightly so I don't say or do the wrong thing. I don't want to ask too much of her."

"What about Kate?" his mother asked. "What are _her _expectations? How does she feel?" Martha knew that Richard and Kate handled their feelings differently, responded to their feelings in opposing ways. Rick wore his heart on his sleeve when it came to Kate, whereas Kate held her cards close to her chest. It didn't mean that she had any less love for Rick than he had for her, however, and her presence over the last couple of weeks had proven that to Martha. It had solidified everything she already knew about how deeply the two cared for each other.

"That's the thing, Mother. The insecurities are mine as much as they are hers," Rick continued. "It's a difficult transition to make from hiding it all to making promises and saying them all out loud. Sometimes I find myself about to ask her if I can kiss her or hold her, and my heart jumps when she nods her head and reminds me that I don't have to ask anymore. We're together, and I have to almost pinch myself to believe that it's real."

Martha smiled at Rick, her eyes shining as she looked back at all the days, weeks, months when it seemed like her son was chasing a ghost. "Can I tell you what _I_ see when I look at you and Kate now?" she asked.

He knew that no matter what he said, she was going to tell him anyway, so he nodded to humor her. He looked down as his Mother's hand as it covered his own. "Richard, when I watch you and Kate, whether I am looking back at yesterday or at the last four years, I see devotion and balance and loyalty. Sure, the timeline certainly isn't ideal, but it never really is, is it? Regardless, Richard, I see so much love. I see her eyes glint like diamonds when she looks at you, and she has never looked more beautiful. She wears "love" very well. And then I see the way you watch her in return. I see how you grab each other's hands, just because it feels like the right thing to do. I see how relieved you both are when the other appears. Richard, I'm no spring chicken, but I can say with certainty that no one has ever looked at me the way the two of you look at one another."

Rick's smile grew as he listened to his mother speak, plucking the pieces of uncertainty away from him. He loved Kate with everything inside of him, and he lost his breath as he recognized the love he knew she felt for him in return.

"Hey! Richard!" Martha said loudly, snapping her fingers in his face to pull him from his daydream, from his moment caught in thought.

"Hmm, I'm sorry, Mother," he said. "I was just thinking."

Martha didn't have to ask to know that it was Kate Beckett that was the one on his mind, filling his consciousness. Despite the concerns she had about the fragility of her son's heart, especially while he was fighting to be cancer free and in good health again, she knew that his relationship with Kate was unlike any she had ever seen him in. Martha had never seen her son more in love, and it made her realize that in her long life, she had never experienced the intensity of those feelings. She had never felt the kind of love that had changed her son and Kate so much. Some might respond to that realization with jealousy or envy, but Martha found much more joy in the recognition of Richard and Kate's happiness than anything else. She felt like they had finally won, and she wished she had a trophy for them. A gilded, diamond encrusted trophy, of course.

"So did you talk to your doctor anymore about _medical marijuana_?" Martha asked after a moment of silence, whispering and covering their mouths with her hand as she spoke the taboo words into his ear.

Rick covered his eyes and shook his head as he started to chuckle at her absurdity. "First of all, Mother, there is no one in the room with us, so it isn't necessary to try to prevent people from reading our lips. Secondly, pot is illegal. I've got a daughter, and in case you didn't notice, I'm dating an NYPD detective."

"Oh please, Richard. When did you become such a prude? We both know how much you used to smoke in college."

"Right, that was before I had a daughter. And I'm not a _prude_. I don't think there is anything inherently wrong with marijuana and I've smoked it here and there in my adult years, but it just doesn't fit into my life right now."

"Well, keep it in mind."

Rick shook his head. She was relentless. It was probably where he had gotten the trait from.

Kate and Alexis walked in relative silence to the cafeteria. It was a borderline-awkward situation, but it gave them both time to decompress after leaving Rick. Kate closed her eyes to shake away the image of Castle, sick and struggling and trying to make it look like it wasn't quite as bad as it really was. She could imagine Alexis needing the brief time to think about her father as well. Kate tried to always think of Alexis, never forgetting that she was Rick Castle's little girl, and the things that affected Kate likely affected Alexis at least as badly, and maybe many times more. Once the two of them had made the walk to the café and settled into their chairs at a table by the window, sitting across each other, the cloud of uncertainty started to lift.

As Kate drank her coffee and Alexis picked at a plate of french fries, they both were internally hoping that the other would say something, would start a conversation that would be easy to maintain. Finally, both of their heads popped up, coinciding in their movements as if they had been choreographed. They then spoke at the same time, asking one another "are you okay?" Kate smiled at the exchange, at how similar it was to the way she and Rick finished each other's sentences. Apparently, it was a Castle thing. It was a way of communicating that didn't stop at Rick, but seemed to have been passed genetically to his daughter. Kate had a feeling he would want to know that.

Kate and Alexis laughed as they spoke over one another, breaking the tension just a bit more.

"So, are you okay?" Kate asked again.

Alexis took a moment to gather her thoughts, leaning back into her chair, then forward and back again. She cocked her said to the side, like her father did when he was working something out. It was as if she was trying to find a comfortable way to share what was inside of her. She realized with a sigh that this was not a topic that she could skirt around. She would have to go _through_. She would have to explore the entire maze of her feelings, and it wasn't going to feel good.

"Um, some days I don't feel anything until I see him. It wasn't really visible from the outside at first, but now I know how much he is hurting, how his body is fighting against him, and it scares me," Alexis began, her hand by her mouth as she chewed her fingernails. "I've gotten used to not having a mother, for all intents and purposes. Dad played all of those roles, from the way he pulled my rain boots on before sending me off to kindergarten for the first time to being there to take care of my drunk friends. He's the best dad I could have ever asked for," Alexis said matter-of-factly and with a shrug.

Kate smiled at Alexis, her eyes shining with fought back tears as she imagined Rick as a single father to a toddler. He stuck around for the people he loved, no matter what. It was one of the many things she truly adored about him. It was one of the things that made her proud to know him. Rick also possessed the virtue of patience, and had waited for _her _to be ready. He stayed when most men would have bailed or run for the hills, and he deserved the best that she could give him. It was the least she could do for his efforts.

Reluctantly, Kate covered Alexis' hand with her own as it sat on the table top. Alexis' eyes moved slowly downward as she looked at their hands. It was comfortable, and she felt contented at the contact. She felt encouraged by it. Kate breathed again when she realized that this didn't _have _to be awkward or uneasy.

"Kate, I'm so scared," she shoved out of her mouth, a bit louder and wrapped in anxiety. "I've been having these nightmares where I can see him, can hear him calling out to me, but I can't reach him. I've woken up in tears screaming for him, too, and it takes a few minutes to realize that it's not real," Alexis shared, speaking as fast as her brain could move the words to her mouth.

Kate's heart seized as she listened to Alexis. She knew exactly what the young girl was feeling. She had been through it herself, and despite the fact that Alexis hadn't been shot in the chest, the girl had experienced her fair share of emotional trauma, which is really all it takes for the mind to conjure up fear and panic and helplessness.

"You are going through a lot right now, Alexis," Kate began, her voice gentle but not quite confident. She tried her hardest to disguise the nervous shake she felt in her throat. "I know this is a different situation, but when I was shot, it took months to get to a place where I could even walk outside without hitting the sidewalk every time a door slammed. Every time I noticed a reflection, I was convinced it was the flash of a scope." Kate surveyed Alexis' face, gauging whether she should continue, or whether it was too much. When Alexis recognized the sudden silence, she picked her head up and looked at Kate, as if urging her to go on. Kate nodded, taking her bottom lip in between her teeth. Even Alexis had recognized the habit as a personal sign of nervousness or insecurity from Kate.

"When I was alone in my apartment, I rarely got a full night's sleep. It was either interrupted by a panic attack as I tried to shut my eyes or was woken by a nightmare. It happened nearly every night for months, and sometimes it got so bad that I wound up on the floor, crouched in the dark with my loaded gun in my hand," Kate revealed. She had never been this open and honest with Alexis before, but she felt like it would be good for her, and maybe even good for them. It to her. She felt like the girl could use it at this point in her life, and it felt much better to share it than Kate had imagined it would be.

"Wow," responded Alexis. "I didn't know it was that hard for you. What pulled you out of it? Are you okay now?"

Kate sighed, scared of the truth but knowing that it would set them both free. "I am much better now, Alexis," Kate said. "I've gotten some help and put in a lot of work. I have much more control over my life. I've reprioritized things, and I've pushed many of my fears aside to make room for what is important. And as for what pulled me out of it, out of the rabbit hole, I went to therapy, and I still go occasionally. It was a lot more helpful than I initially thought it would be," said Kate, still surprised at herself and at the level of truthfulness pouring out of her. She was baring her soul to this young woman, telling her things she rarely shared. If Alexis needed a sounding board, Kate was willing to return the favor, to listen In return, if she needed it.

"Aside from therapy, there was something much bigger that held me on the surface," said Kate, hesitating before breaking into a smile revealing the white line of teeth behind her lips. "The truth is that your father carried me through the entire recovery process, even when he wasn't there, even though we hadn't seen each other in days that turned into weeks and months. He waited for me when he really shouldn't have; he loved me when I gave him no reason to. I've never trusted anyone so much, though. I've never felt so connected to the extension of a person's loyalty before. I've never been so lucky." Kate took a breath before continuing. "Alexis, I know that I am not your favorite person, and I know that I hurt your Dad, and you are absolutely justified if you feel that you can't trust me. I've made mistakes, ones that have directly affected you and your family. All I can do right now is promise you that I won't leave. I'll do everything I can, every day to keep from hurting him again. I love him, Alexis," Kate said, still trying to wrap her head around that truth. The way it sounded coming out of her mouth both scared and exhilarated her, but it was the truth, and had been for so long.

Alexis was quiet for a long moment, pensive, and Kate nervously watched her face for any sign of disapproval or resentment. Finally, Alexis opened her mouth, cocking her head to the side as she searched for the words. "He needs you," she said, finally, firmly. "He loves you. You make him better. You have given him purpose beyond the keyboard, and he'd never write again if you asked him not to. Just promise me that you won't leave. Promise me that you'll stand by him even when it's tough. He needs that from you, and there is no one else that means that much to him. There is no one else who can keep him above water. He _needs_ you," said Alexis, catching her breath after her impromptu monologue.

Kate nodded her head slowly, pleased that she was far more moved by those words than she was afraid of them. A close lipped smile appeared on her face as she started to speak. "I promise that I need him just as much, probably more. I've learned that I _can't _go anywhere. I can't leave because life turns dark again without him in it. I'm just sorry that it took so long for me to realize that." She knew that Castle would have told her to stop saying "I'm sorry" a half a dozen apologies ago, but Kate felt like she owed this one. She wanted to give the humility to Alexis.

"Is Dad going to be okay?" Alexis asked Kate, effectively changing the subject, asking a question that she knew Kate couldn't honestly answer.

The urge to run came and went in an instant for Kate before she weighed her body into the plastic chair, anchoring herself with her own refusal to be_ that _person again, the person who runs. She wanted to be better, more reliable and trustworthy. Castle motivated her to live up to those affirmations, but she realized that she was doing it for Alexis, for Martha as well.

"Alexis, your Dad is going through some discomfort right now. He doesn't feel himself, he feels weak, and he isn't eating much. I know you already know these things, but I think it's also important for you to know that his chances are really, really good. Dr. Edwards and Dr. Stanley moved quickly with everything, which is maybe why it feels so overwhelming. At least to me it does." Kate wanted to tell Alexis that everything would be fine, and while she believed that it would be, it was still an uncertain promise that she couldn't make, so she didn't.

"Thanks, Kate," Alexis said, her fingers scratching at the fake marble finish on the table as she avoided eye contact.

"For what?" Kate asked, her eyes squinting, uncertain, as she turned her head towards Alexis.

"Thank you for being there for my Dad, and for all of us," said Alexis, sincerity in her voice.

Kate took Alexis' hand once again and looked her straight in the eye before speaking. "Whether you believe it or not, you are the one that is going to pull him through this. You are his daughter and there is no one more important to him than you. You are his greatest achievement, Alexis. And as far as me hanging around, thank _you___for allowing me to, for accepting me there, with your Dad."

The two stood up from the table together and went to throw their garbage away before Kate was surprised by the sudden, tight anchor of Alexis' arms, pulling her into a hug. Kate's arms were hanging in the air for a moment, and she once again felt unsure of what to do with them until she slowed down her over-analytical brain and wrapped her arms around Alexis in return. It was much less complicated and awkward as she thought it would be. In fact, it felt comforting, real, and connected. It felt like relief. She had been unsure as to the state of their relationship, because she knew that Alexis harbored feelings of anger and disappointment towards her. Kate was hopeful that time and proof would be the balm that would completely seal the cracks between them.

As they walked together back towards the oncology department, Kate bumped her body into Alexis', in much the same way she had done to Rick many times, always catching him off-guard while trying to lighten the moment. Alexis laughed as she lost her balance for a second, bracing herself on the wall as they continued walking down the hallway.

When Kate and Alexis were back in Rick's room, Kate smiled to see that Martha's chair had been pulled closer to him, their heads thrown back in laughter. Over what, Kate couldn't be sure, but it didn't matter. His smile made his face glow in the most mesmerizing of ways, lighting up her heart every single time she stopped to pay attention. She hadn't seen enough of his smile over the last few weeks, so seeing it accompanied by hearty laughter made up for the loss in so many ways.

As Kate moved to sit down next to Alexis, she was taken off guard by Martha, who had stood up quickly and was heading her way with arms outstretched. Kate was stunned by the tight hug and the way Martha rocked them back and forth, but the practice run with Alexis made the idea of the hug not quite so anxiety provoking. Again, she didn't know what to do with her hands at first, letting them float at her sides at first before returning the gesture, her arms encircling Martha in return. The Castle's were huggers, clearly.

"It's lovely to have you in the family, Kate," Martha said as she pulled back to look at Kate's face. "You're a real spitfire, and you're good for him. Just keep moving together and you'll make it, darling."

A blush broke out on Kate's cheek, and she was now acutely aware of the presence of multiple members of the Castle/Rodger's clan in the room. Martha tapped her red cheeks lightly before leaning in to plant a kiss on each one with a regal, European flair that she pulled off flawlessly. It made Kate laugh before she tilted against Martha, leaning more comfortably and naturally, arms across one another's shoulders, smiles on their faces.

Rick looked around the room, his eyes darting from Alexis to Martha to Kate, and back. They all had grins on their faces as they shared loose conversation, laughing when Kate poked fun at his hair, messy and sticking up from spending hours with his head against the faux leather of the chair back. The truth was that she found it adorable, and just that small feature made him look young and boyish.

As he continued to take in the dynamic of the three women surrounding him, he couldn't help but feel unworthy of such an endowment. As he watched, or 'stared creepily', as Kate would once have said to him, he caught Kate's eyes as she turned to him. She did a double-take when she saw him looking back. Her mouth stretched into a wide smile as their eyes spoke to one another, his heart pounding as he smiled back, trying to put all of his love into the gaze.

Again, he became annoyed at the limited length of his IV, as it was taking all of his resolve not to pull himself free and cross the room to her, to kiss her harder than he ever had, if that was even possible.

Dr. Stanley walked into the crowded room with Rick's chart In hand, smiling formally at Rick before nodding to the women in the room, one at a time.

"How are we feeling, Rick?" Dr. Stanley asked. "I heard you had some trouble earlier."

"Yeah, I guess you could call it that," Rick responded, his words coming out with sharpened edges.

"Can you tell me what happened?" Dr. Stanley asked, ignoring Rick's avoidance.

Castle leaned his head back against his chair, his eyes closed as he let out an audible sigh. "It was just nausea. Par for the course. I hadn't felt it so quickly yet, so as for today? I puked and it sucked."

"Richard," Martha chastised her voice low and serious. Completely unlike her, although she had a knack for saying the right things when it was needed.

Rick nodded his head at his mother, his lips pursed tightly together. "Look, Dr. Stanley, my attitude isn't called for, and I apologize. It's not you, it's just that I associate you with _this_," Castle said, pointing around the room and then down to his IV.

"No need to apologize," Dr. Stanley began, his hand waving the responsibility away. "I've experienced much, much worse, and I understand the reaction, the frustration. Several years back, a patient of mine threw her old Nokia cell phone at my face. I don't know if you remember those, but they were like bricks. Damn thing split my forehead open. 26 stitches," he said, pointing to a long, faint scar above his right eye.

Rick shook his head, imagining the scene. It made him feel like less of an asshole, and he decided to make it a point to ease up on Dr. Stanley from now on. The man was just doing his job, which seemed like a pretty depressing specialty, and none of this was _his_ fault. He was the guy with the answers, and even though those answers were not always what Rick and his family wanted to hear, the truth was as reassuring as it was daunting, menacing. "Don't shoot the messenger," Rick thought as he made a conscious effort to soften his demeanor towards the doctor.

Dr. Stanley leafed through Castle's chart, flipping the pages in time with the second hand on the clock. All eyes in the room were on him as if he were holding the Dead Sea Scrolls in his hands, and they waited anxiously for him to open his mouth. Castle smiled lightly as he watched Martha shaking her leg nervously, Kate biting her lower lip, and Alexis chewing her nails. They all had their individual characteristics for every feeling and emotion, and their uniqueness in the face of the same situation made his heart fill. He was sitting on a treatment chair, his arm bruising from his IV, his body feeling weakened, and his joints feeling as if they were on fire, but the strongest feelings he was experiencing came from the diverse triad of women sitting with him, going through this with him. Instead of giving in to self pity, he chose gratitude instead.

"Okay, Rick," Dr. Stanley started, pulling Castle from his reverie. "As of today, you are about a third of the way through this round of chemo."

"And then what?" Rick asked.

"Well, then we will do some scans and take some blood, a lot like we did your first day around, and we'll look at where your tumors are. The hope is that they will have shrunk, even if it's a minute change. If things don't appear to be responding, we'll adjust the medication and the dosage and we'll start another round," Dr. Stanley explained.

The thought of a never ending sequence, a circular wheel with no stop to get off, a "round" of more of these days, spending hours absorbing toxic carcinogens into his body, was overwhelming. "What is the likelihood of this round not working?" Castle asked, wearing his anxiety across his face.

"I wish I could give you a concrete answer, Rick, but I can promise that myself and my team are working towards a full remission for you. That's the goal. The hope is that you'll be able to return to your normal life, cancer free as soon as possible, but chemotherapy isn't an exact science. The medication being administered to you is the ideal combination for you, based on your symptoms as well as the results of your scans and blood work. I have high hopes for you, Rick, and I know it's difficult, but I'm going to ask that you please trust me, trust that I don't want to see you having to continue any additional rounds just as you don't." The doctor said.

That wasn't good enough, he thought as his knuckles turned white as he clenched the seat. Rick wanted more than just 'maybe's'. He _needed _more. The utter frustration that came with the feeling of powerlessness made him want to yell or throw something or get completely obliterated off of finely aged, overpriced scotch. He clamped his teeth together, the action releasing a loud grinding sound that made Kate wince. He was ready to lash out, stretched almost to the breaking point when he watched Kate stand up and walk towards him slowly and calmly, sliding next to him, half her bottom on the armrest. His eyes followed hers as they settled into each other, continuing to stare. Kate grasped the hair at the back of his head and pulled him down to her chest, gently holding him there while she wrapped her free arm across his back, rubbing him soothingly.

Kate felt Rick's shaky breath against her skin, and pulled him in tighter as his arms wrapped around her waist. For a moment, Kate felt awkward knowing that three sets of eyes were sitting silently during this moment, but she couldn't be bothered with it. He was much more important in that moment.

"Doctor, if we're through for today, could we get a nurse to take his I.V. out so that he can go home?" Kate asked as Rick tightened his hold on her, hugging her and whispering "thank you" so that only she could hear.

"Sure, sure. That would be fine," stuttered Dr. Stanley as Rick released his hold on Kate, opening up so that his eyes were once again looking into the exam room. He nodded at Dr. Stanley and gave him a closed-mouthed smile as he continued. "Barring any issues, we'll see you again next week, Rick. Please don't hesitate to call with any questions or concerns," he finished, extending his hand to Rick for a handshake. "I'll get someone in right away to take your I.V. out," he said again, before three Castle's and a Beckett made their way out of the massive, off-white medical center, piling into the awaiting town car and counting the blocks until they arrived at the loft.

When they finally arrived home from the hospital, Rick said his goodnights to Martha and Alexis right away, exhausted and worn out in so many different ways. He kissed them both on the cheek before taking his sleeping pills, filling a tumbler of water as Kate hugged both Alexis and Martha as well, wishing them a good night before following Rick into his bedroom, knowing that he would want to do nothing but try to get some rest. She could use the warm, heavy comfort of his arms as well, hoping to drift off after another long day at Mount Sinai. As he dropped heavily onto the edge of his mattress, Kate grabbed the hem of his shirt, nudging him to lift his arms as she pulled it off of him. Next, she kneeled down between his legs, reaching for the button on his jeans before pulling the fly down and sliding them off his legs. Before she stood up, she pulled him to her, kissing him soundly. Despite his state of undress and their proximity to one another, this night was about connection and the intimacy of falling asleep in the arms of someone you love. Arousal and sexuality would take a backseat on this night. They were worn out, and it showed.

After she let him undress her, she wrapped herself in one of his dress shirts. She left it open, only wearing it to keep the chill at bay and away from her bare skin. They wrapped themselves around one another at the foot of the bed, holding tightly until he turned her in his arms. He stood behind her in front of the mirror on his dresser, his height allowing them to see themselves, together, connected so strongly that it was sometimes difficult for them to be certain as to where their individual bodies ended and the partnership between the two of them began. It was like a hallucination for Rick, the way her perfect legs disappeared at her thigh, barely covered by his dress shirt. Seeing her wearing his clothes, swimming in the size of it was both adorable and incredibly hot for Rick. It was like a confirmation of the dream he had been waiting on, almost praying for over the past 4 years. The sweet smell of her was sure to linger, and it would serve as proof should there ever be doubts. She had been his rock all of a sudden, standing firm and still, not wavering in her commitment. _That_ was his proof, but the shirt looked amazing, nonetheless.

"Look at us," she says, her voice low and gasping, coated with a combination of love and lust. Kate is in disbelief at how _right _they look and how perfect he feels standing behind her, his body flush with hers. She notices that he has lost weight over the last few weeks, no doubt a result of his cancer and the chemotherapy, coupled with a practically non-existent appetite. Rick reaches up to her shoulder, strapping an arm across her and pulling her even further into him. The movement bunches her shirt up, revealing her gorgeous, lacy black panties and the taut muscles of her stomach.

Rick slides his hand across the bared skin, then runs his fingers up and down her sides. He smiled as he watched in the mirror, noticing how his stomach muscles jumped at his touch. Kate moaned in his ear, curling her arm up, then reaching backwards to wrap her arm around his neck, pulling his mouth down to her shoulder, shuddering when she felt his warm breath over her skin.

They stood in silence together, the sounds of their breathing the only noise interrupting the mostly dark and quiet loft. They began to sway back and forth, unconsciously, in each other's arms, nearly dozing while standing, but neither wanted to break the contact. Even though it would no doubt be resumed in bed, _this _was comfortable. _This _was perfect. Rick continued to look at the outline of their combined bodies in the mirror, smiling at the way his hand moved across the back of her head, smiling because he could do that now. He could hold her now, and it was a miracle.

They pulled back at the same instant, if only to catch their breath. Kate turned her head and rested it on his warm, safe chest, her fingers tracing patterns on his skin as they made slow stop-and-go progress toward the bed. She was struggling with every attempt to be the strong one, and as much as both of them wanted to be together in the most intimate of ways, the lust and passion sometimes wasn't enough. The love they shared for one another, however, the way they protected each other and stood beside one another, that was always enough. It always had been. It made the uncertainty of the circumstances just a bit easier to swallow.

As they moved against one another, they found themselves pulling against each other to find the spot that brought them closest, that gave the best access to each other's necks, which allowed them to graze the other's ears, speaking quiet words meant only for each other. Castle's hands landed on her hips, squeezing the hard jut of the bones beneath his fingers. He moved impossibly close to her, their chests molded together. As his mouth landed on her throat and her lips parted at the sensation, Rick opened his eyes again to watch them together, to see her respond to him, to his hands and mouth. Kate pulled his arms around her waist, holding him there as her hands rested, entwined with his at her belly button.

Kate turned around in his arms, wrapping both arms around his waist and pulling in to rest her head on his chest.

After they collapsed together in his bed, finally, they lay in silence while he continued to stroke her hair and back. As he held Kate, he felt the familiar pull of his body staging a mutiny against him. He felt helpless, aroused but ill, wanting to make love to her but fearing his limitations. Some nights, they got lucky, both literally and figuratively, but tonight, and what seemed like most nights lately, he felt unreasonably at fault for the feelings of those around him. He felt embarrassed and mortified at the limitations of his own body, and longed to be able to watch her as she fell apart around her, the single syllable of his given name falling from her lips. As they lay in bed together, Kate could feel his body tense up. She had learned his secret, coded fears, and how his body moved or slowed or twitched with stress. She felt it tonight, and she knew that he was feeling ashamed, unreliable, even worthy of blame.

It had become an ugly, dark tradition after his chemotherapy days, when she could feel that there was something inside him ready to break, to give up, either physically or mentally, sometimes both. She held on to him tightly, compensating for how he tried to pull away. As she felt his body begin to shake and shudder, she moved further up so that their faces nearly touched. She could see the silhouette of his head turn away from her before she placed two fingers under his chin, pulling him back so that their eyes shared a close, connected space.

They said nothing for a few long minutes, their eyes locked on one another. There was so much communication between them this way, and it was one of her favorite characteristics about _them._ Her mother had always reminded her of the adage that "the eyes are the window to the soul", but before Rick, she had never allowed anyone to open that window, and she had always turned away before she could put her discomfort aside and look that deeply into someone else. It was reassuring to know that her mother was right, that such connection _did _exist and that she had found it in Castle.

Kate reached toward Rick's face, stroking his cheek before moving her hand back to finger through his hair, pulling him closer to her until she covered his lips with her own. She felt his arms come around her in return, and they held each other tightly, both reassured by the warmth of each other's bodies.

It was slow and it was deep, and he gradually loosened his hold on her, but not by much. He didn't pull back to look at her again, despite her persistent tug. Instead, he sank his head into the crook of her neck, tickling her as he covered the skin of her shoulder with his mouth, his tongue.

She could feel him shudder against her every few moments as she cradled the back of his neck in her palm. She knew he was crying before she even felt the excess dampness falling from his eyes to her skin. She held his face, her hands strengthened by the certainty that she would never love another man again, that she had found that impossible person who wanted her for exactly who she was and who she wasn't, who looked at her, into her, and saw her soul. He was her "one and done", and she didn't doubt it anymore. In fact, she now wondered how she ever could have.

She looks back, thinking about words that stung and doors slammed in faces, watching him walk away from her with someone else. She had done the same. They both had done it, both had hurt each other. It felt ridiculous to her now. They loved each other, as they had during all of those gut wrenching moments, too, but there were obstacles they needed to navigate. There was fire and ice and death and life and family and love, but what it came down to was the sometimes impossible fight not to feel abashed about the days and weeks and years that had kept them from being what she had desperately wanted them to be.

She wanted everything, and she felt like she had needed that from him forever. Her hands shook as she saw the lighter moments, the times they oozed love only to run from it, the points in time that were so much more than either of them had allowed themselves to admit. As she continued to caress his cheekbones, her palm held fast to his face. She moved her body towards his, tilting until their foreheads touched, and they both moved their eyes downward, visually tracing the pattern of each other's lips.

Their eyes bored holes into one another until Castle moved towards her, reaching for her face with palms that mirrored hers, still holding his cheeks. Kate moved backwards, quickly, and saw real panic in his eyes. It broke her heart as she again could see the consequences of what she had put him through, what they had put each other through.

Some part of him still feared losing her, feared watching her walk away from him. In the moments when he was sure that he wasn't good enough for her, he sometimes reacted in fight or flight mode. He had misunderstood her, however, and she picked up on it almost instantly, quickly covering his mouth with hers. When she broke the intense kiss, she kept a hold of his cheeks. She stared at him, smiling, adoring the way he had his head cocked to the side, questioning, uncertain.

"You okay, Kate?" he asked. She continued to smile, again pulling at her bottom lip with her teeth. That action, which would be so easy to miss, was one of the first little details that Castle had found endearing about her, and now that he knew what it meant, that it was a symbol of insecurity, like butterflies in her stomach, that she shared almost exclusively with him, he loved it even more.

It would surprise Rick to know that Kate had started to see the things that made her question her initial impression of him almost as early as he had begun to develop feelings. She had acknowledged only to herself during their second year together that the things he did that made her push him away actually wrapped him ever more tightly around her heart. She loved those things, and she loved him, even then.

"Rick," she said, straight and soft. She listened closely to the sound of her own voice, but still heard and felt his breath hitch as she said his name. She softened her tone as much as she consciously could, not wanting him to misunderstand her, not wanting him to ever be afraid of her, of the other shoe.

"Kate," he said, wondering if hearing him say her name made her feel as incredible as when she said his.

"Are you afraid?" Kate asked, repeating the same question they had asked each other when this all began, with uncertainty twisted into her voice.

"I'm terrified," he admitted after a beat.

"Of what?" she asked, her body turned, open towards him.

"You," he said simply. His answer was the same this time around as well, but it was also deeper. It held even more meaning, if that was possible. "No, not _of _you. I shouldn't have said it that way. I'm scared of losing you. I know it's stupid, and I try to talk myself out of that worry, but it's there and it just hurts. Makes me angry with myself-."

Kate reached for him again, covering his warm, pink cheeks with her palms again. "Castle, I need you to please listen to me, to listen and to please believe me, please trust me," she begged.

Castle nodded, and she kissed him quickly before moving back again, resting her head next to his as they shared a pillow, eyes connected to one another. She ran her thumb across his face, his forehead, and the corners of his eyes. "Castle, please don't ever think that your worries are stupid. I feel the same way every time you don't stay in the car or you get separated from me. I feel it sometimes, and it wakes me up from a sound sleep, the feeling of you walking away or of being too late to save you."

Rick brushed the tears he could see falling down her face, drying her skin and then moving to tuck her hair behind her ears, letting his fingertips linger. Kate grabbed his hand, kissing it before moving it back down to rest between them. He felt his heart start to pound as he watched Kate begin to open her mouth again.

"I'm never going to leave you, Rick," she began, her voice like a benediction, as certain as any words she had ever spoken. "Rick, as much as you think that you are the dependent one, the needy one, _I _need you. I have for so long. I just need you and I love you."

Rick pulled Kate as close as possible, their bodies tightly connected at every point. He stroked her back while burying his face in her hair, his lips leaving kisses along her ears and neck.

"How are you feeling?" Kate asked him after reveling in the feel of his hands on her. "You okay?" She asked, always wanting to know, always wanting to make sure that he was okay.

"You make me okay," he said as he continued to move his warm lips across her skin. "Nothing else matters."

They remained hooked together by legs and hands and lips, whispering truths only meant for one another. Minutes went by and their hands slowed, their lips connecting and remaining in contact as sleep began to overtake them.

Kate's voice was heavy when she disrupted the silence, her hands roving again across his chest. "I think I'm going to make an appointment to see Dr. Burke," Kate said, surprising Castle, whose eyes flipped open immediately, their faces still nearly touching.

"Are _you _okay?" he asked, redirecting her previous question full circle, back towards her.

"I'm okay, absolutely. I just want to make sure I stay that way. That _we_ stay that way. Therapy's helped, Castle," Kate responded, the need to convince him in her voice.

Castle caressed the side of her face with his thumb. "I know it helps, Kate. I can tell, believe me. I'm proud of you and I'm grateful for it. I'm grateful for whoever this amazing shaman you've been working with is."

Kate laughed, throwing her head back before he pulled her against him again and smiled against her lips.

"I made it pretty difficult for him at first," Kate revealed, her head back at rest against Rick's chest, her fingers crawling lightly on his skin, always touching him somewhere, although she would never admit it. "I was defensive; I had those walls up, of course. I didn't think I needed it, and I was angry that the department made me go."

Rick kept his hand moving across her back, encouraging her to continue. She was telling him about the things he missed, about what she went through after the shooting. It stung to hear, because the only reason he _hadn't _been there was because she hadn't wanted him to be. He hadn't told her yet what those three months had done to him, and she was only breaking the surface of it tonight. Why this night of all the others? He wouldn't push, but he would wait and he would listen. He would talk, too, he would tell her how he got through it himself if she wanted him to.

"What is he like? Your therapist, I mean?" Rick asked with a genuine interest in that part of her life. In _every_ part of her life. Maybe someday it would be _their _life.

Kate paused at the question, thinking for a moment how to describe the man. Dr. Burke felt, in many ways like a stranger, but one who knew her better than almost anyone else, better than herself even. "He's good at what he does," Kate said, finally. "He pushed as hard as I did until I started to work, started to knock down the rubble and rebuild."

"Burke used to tell me that I was riding the line between having courage and being helpless. I felt so much closer to helpless, though. I can't go back there. I can't."

Rick squeezed her, silently responding to her metaphor, knowing that it included him. "I'm really proud of you, Kate," he said, his voice framed with sincerity and humility. She pushed against his chest to meet his lips, kissing him hard until they settled again, Kate finally drifting asleep.

Rick lay awake, the minutes passing frustratingly slow, especially watching her sleep, wishing he could share the comfort of her body connected to his as he drifted off. He was exhausted and broken down, but any sort of sleep was fitful, light and oft-interrupted. _'Frustrating_'. It was the word he used most to describe the way his life had changed, so suddenly, so profoundly in all directions.

On the one hand, he had Kate. She had made him want to become a better person, a better man. She had, somehow, fallen in love with him as deeply as he had with her. She was the woman he had longed for, waited for, held out for when it seemed that she might actually have feelings for him too. His family was as whole as he could ever want it, and Kate was as close to a dream come true as he had ever imagined.

Conversely, Kate and Rick had decided to follow their hearts _after_ he discovered he was most likely sick. How romantic is it that their relationship essentially began because of a panic attack on the street? He beat himself up for _how _it happened, for what he couldn't give her right now. What if he hadn't been diagnosed with cancer? Where would she be?

He could feel his face flush in the dark, and his heart was beating as fast as his thoughts were racing. Rick rolled away from her, sitting on the edge of the bed for a moment before standing up and walking to the bathroom.

Rick reached into the shower, turning the knob all the way to the right, as far as it would go. As the water heated up, he leaned against the vanity, looking at himself in the mirror before it fogged up. He looked ten years older, exhausted, depressed and pale. He dropped his head away and slid into the shower, first wincing at the scalding hot water as it pelted his skin, then adjusting to it, nearly being pulled from consciousness by it.

He didn't really know how long he had been in there when the shower curtain ripped open and he saw Kate looking back at him. It could have been minutes or a half hour or more. Rick started to shake as he became overwhelmed by the sight of her and the helplessness, and by the temperature of the water. Kate noticed immediately, walking into the shower in her underwear to pull him out. She reached for his face, pushing his hair back from his forehead.

"Jesus, Rick! That water is boiling!" She said as she felt it on her own skin. She reached for one of his large, white towels and started drying him off as he stood before her. As she shook the towel through his hair, the look in his eyes startled her. The Rick Castle she had fallen in love with possessed an innate ability to lighten almost every situation, whether appropriate or not. He was nearly always an optimist, he believed in magic, and he had brought her more hope and truth and love than she had ever experienced before. He beat almost every statistic by being an amazing single dad. He also had the most beautiful blue eyes that shined for her and for Alexis and for everyone he loved. That shine was there when he was happy, hopeful or proud, but it was not present before her as she dried him off in the middle of this night. They had enjoyed each other in bed, but that had come after a gut wrenching day of chemotherapy and the persistent haul of guilt he seemed to carry lately. His eyes looked darker than normal, and appeared as a single, dark shade of midnight rather than the million tones of blues and teals that made her stomach do flips. On this night, however, the depth of his emotion had been switched off, leaving a phantom in his wake.

Kate finished toweling him off quickly, and then wrapped him in his bathrobe, turning him by the shoulders and walking with him back to bed. She pushed him down so that he was sitting on the mattress, his head hanging low and sad, and he made he want to sob.

She peeled off her wet underwear before piling three pillows against the headboard, leaning against them before pulling him to her, his head in her lap. She felt him resist for a moment before he finally settled against her, the blanket soft as it cover them up. She listened to him breathe as she ran her fingers through his damp hair, wondering what to say, wondering if there was something right or appropriate, but he was so much better at that, at words, than she was.

"I'm just tired," Rick said finally, moving his head further up her thighs and pulling the blanket back a bit so that he could feel her skin against his, his hands resting against her hip and her tight stomach.

"I'm fed up," he continued. "I'm fed up, and I've barely even started this thing. I mean, you heard the doctor! I'm a third of the way through my _first _round, and there are no guarantees. I could be going back and forth with this forever. It might _never _work, Kate. I might never be able to be what you need."

Kate took a loud, quick breath before jumping in front of his words, her voice serious and commanding. "No, Castle. You don't get to do that. You don't get to tell me what I need, or what is right for me. You also don't get to give up, because this isn't just you anymore. This is "us", Rick, and I need you as much as you need me, and I'm not going to let you push me away."

Rick moved himself up off of her, sitting next to her on the bed with his knees tucked to his chest. He picked his head up to look at her, thinking about the timing, the circumstances. Thinking about where _they _would be had he remained in good health. Would he still just be the plucky sidekick? That had sufficed for so long, but now it felt like the distant past. He could never go back, but he was terrified, still, that maybe she could.

"What if I hadn't been diagnosed with cancer, Kate?" Rick asked, his voice resentful and accusing, a verbal attack that stemmed from his overwhelming aggravation and insecurity. He sounded harsher than he had meant to, but he continued to press, motivated by his anger and misdirecting it at Kate. "Would you still be here right now, or would we still be dancing around _us_?"

His question was sudden, and took her breath away. She bit her lip, feeling her eyes tear up, and she couldn't look at him. He grabbed her hand, tugging it gently until she finally flinched in his direction, both of them breaking each other's hearts with their eyes and all the truths hidden inside.

"Of course I would be here," said Kate, her voice at a whisper. "How could you even ask that, Rick?"

She was infuriated and hurt, despite the fact that she knew that he was right. She knew exactly how he could ask, but that didn't make the words sting any less. The truth was that she had loved him for years, but she had only recently become _ready_. One does not necessarily equal the other. Loving someone and allowing that love into your life are two concepts that didn't always commingle, at least in Kate's experience.

"Why now?" he asked softly, afraid of pushing too hard this time, afraid and pushing her away. "I thought you weren't ready. I thought… your wall, Kate."

Kate inhaled deeply, choosing her words and how she interpreted his carefully. "Rick, the timeline might have shifted, it might have moved at a different pace, but if you are asking me if I loved you, then my answer is yes. If you are asking me if I wanted to be with you, my answer is yes." And as for her wall she had taking it down piece by piece, inspired, but of her own effort.

"I needed some perspective," Kate explained, desperately helping him to understand, and to trust and believe in everything that had started that day in the alley. It had started many other times through, but that day was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. "I finally got some that day on the street, some perspective, I mean. Outside the precinct. I've gotten a bit more of it every day since then, but that day my wall started crumbling until it fell like a pile of dust at my feet. At our feet. You can be bitter and angry if you want to, if it helps you, Castle, but I'm right where I want to be and I'm not going anywhere. Please don't doubt that."

Rick shifted his gaze downward, absorbing her words. He felt like an idiot for attacking her, for questioning her feelings. "I'm so sorry," he said as he lifted his head to look as deeply into her eyes as he could. She grabbed his hand as it rested palm down on the bed, turning it and twining their fingers together. "I'm sorry, too," she responded, her voice softened as their conversation worked its way from angry to understanding and loving.

It could have been considered their first fight as a couple, but they both also felt that it had moved them forward, encouraging them to say just a few of the many things that needed to be hashed out between them. Rick slowly reached for her, his two hands hesitating as he moved toward her neck. He massaged her with the fingers he had curled over the sensitive, soft skin above her back before planting a soft, chaste kiss on her lips.

Once they moved backwards, away from that quick kiss that held so much promise, Kate reached around him, wrapping them up in a firm, strong hug that made her feel safer and more loved than she had ever felt. How could they have waited so long? How could four years have gone by without either of them acting on the strength of what they both felt? The action felt like relief to both of them as they held each other tightly. Their faces, and specifically, their mouths had again found refuge in the comfortable spots in the crook of one another's neck, tickling each other with the heat of their breath.

They clung tightly to one another before moving in sync, still connected as they lowered themselves to the bed. Once they hit the mattress, they turned into one another, sharing the space as their arms resumed their union.

Kate was relieved when she heard Castle's breath even out, indicating that he was indeed, finally asleep, or at least dozing, which was so much better than nothing. It seemed like such a small concern. Sleep was one of those things you don't really notice or pay much attention to until it affects you, or someone you love. A little bit of sleep, soft snores and a tendency to steal all the blankets were characteristics that would have once driven her insane, but tonight, the sounds and actions of his slumber may as well have been a symphony.

Once she had relaxed against his loose, sleeping body, she allowed herself to let go. Her eyes blinked, slower and heavier each time until she finally drifted off in his arms.

At the 12th Precinct, Kevin Ryan and Javier Esposito sat straight faced as they compared suspects, sitting next to the murder board, but not utilizing it. That was their _team's _tool, and right now, they were half a team, at best. They exchanged and compared the information they had the old fashioned way. Aside from Kevin's work at the tech stations, they hand wrote their notes, evidence and suspect information, as well as boredom inspired doodles with pens and paper, all business. They were like a broken family, half of them gone, and the gap that was left behind hung in the air like smoke or thick humidity. The tone in the bullpen was dark and deep, and the clock ticked slowly as they thought of their friends and the uncertainty surrounding them all.

Finally breaking the frustrating silence, Ryan looked up with a sigh before speaking. "It is so weird without Beckett and Castle. It's depressing. It's so quiet."

"Yeah, bro," said Esposito, nodding his head at his partner. "I keep getting angry with them for taking off on us, and then I remember all that's happened and I feel like I got punched in the gut."

Looking down at the papers and folders and pictures around them, Ryan looked pensive, shaking his head. "I wonder how Castle is," he said, pausing before adding "I miss him."

Javier chuckled at Kevin, the lighter of the two of them, a man in touch with his emotional side. It felt like a moment to throw a "honey milk" comment out there, but Javi refrained as Ryan shook his head, his face carrying a somber appearance, no time for jokes.

Ryan didn't laugh, couldn't get a lighthearted thought out of his head to snicker and giggle about. "This is different," said Ryan, looking at his partner and speaking in a tone louder and more serious than Kevin normally used. "This isn't some little thing that we can solve and make better or back to normal or ignore or be angry about. You _know _you miss them. You _know _you are worried about Castle," Ryan challenged.

Esposito paused, reflecting on Richard Castle and how much he had done for them. He was a partner as much as they were, and he was a friend who had always been there for them, for all of them, practically since day one. Espo considered Castle as close as a brother, and he smiled, close mouthed and contemplative as he thought of how much fun Castle had brought into a place that didn't always rank up there with the happiest places on earth.

Javi thought of Kate, the woman he had grown to consider a sister as well as the best and most competent detective he knew. She had always been guarded and unflappable, always willing to put in just as much work as the boys, and often more. She resented being treated as if she were weak or less capable, so she proved herself by becoming more than just an equal. She had become the _best_. She did that herself. She had _earned_ respect in the boy's club of the NYPD, and Espo had been proud of her since the start. Not that he ever let her know that for fear of it seeming that he was trivializing her successes. She had always told Espo not to treat her like a child or even like a woman. She wanted to be known as a cop first, a successful one, as good as any men Javi could think of. She had built her own armor, as thick as steel which kept people and relationships at bay, but unfortunately it didn't seem to repel bullets.

In the very first days that Castle shadowed Detective Kate Beckett, she was annoyed with him constantly. It didn't take long, however, before Castle could inspire a smile on her face, or say something witty enough to make her laugh, a sound that Rick loved. And it wasn't much longer still before she truly considered him a partner. At first, Ryan and Espo noticed only what had slipped through the cracks of the secret feelings they harbored. Usually the red flags were subtle, bookended, they knew, by her previous annoyance and by her cautious heart. Castle had felt like a violation to her initially, and she let him follow her around only because Captain Montgomery hadn't given her a choice. She resented not having been assigned a "real" partner, so Castle would have to prove himself to her just as she had done to earn her spot on the force, to merit the honor of wearing a detective's badge.

Esposito had never stopped watching Castle and Beckett, always keeping an eye on her from afar, like any brother would for his little sister, whether she needed it or not. Somewhere down the line, however, and earlier than Javier could have imagined, he started noticing changes in the way they communicated. They looked at each other like they were climbing into one another's soul. They had a non-verbal connection that Javi had never seen the likes of before, and they understood each other without the need for words being spoken. Sometimes they seemed to be completely in tune with each other, buzzing on their own, private frequency, sharing and understanding subtle nuances and simultaneously finished sentences. Ryan had recently said that their symbiotic relationship would probably make them talented air guitar players. They were clearly attracted to one another, likely by lust rather than love in the beginning, but Esposito noticed that they stood just a bit closer together, looked at each other with increasing levels of longing. When Javi and Kevin first saw the confirming kiss they witnessed in the parking lot, they laughed, but they also felt protective of both Kate and Castle. They knew that Beckett trusted Castle implicitly, and he had become as capable a partner as she, as any of them, could ever ask for. Esposito could never have imagined how profoundly the Kate he knew would be changed by Castle. Very few people had ever _tried_ to break through to herbefore, let alone actually succeed in making a dent in her hard and guarded exterior.

Espo was pulled from his thoughts, catching Ryan looking at him, squinting his eyes at the shock of it, at the truth in those memories, even in the ones he wasn't there for. An expression of concern and worry fell on his face. It was a look that translated helplessness and frustration, emotions that Ryan didn't do well with, being easily pulled into them. He ran his hand through his sandy hair, not caring if he was only making him look like even more of a mess.

"You know, Castle kind of came out of nowhere," Ryan said, his voice unsure. "But he's turned into our voice, our mascot. He lightened this place up, and all of us along with it. Now it feels like everything's left hanging in the air," said Ryan, his words seeming to echo and reverberate off the walls.

Espo nodded, the questions front and center in his mind. "I wonder if Beckett's okay, if she's coming back even," He said, not really talking to anyone in particular, but just speaking his feelings out loud.

"She'll be back," said Ryan, confidently, although he wasn't sure where he had gotten the certainty from. He had faith in Kate, and in her strength. He believed in Castle too, who would chase her to the ends of the earth. She was too damn good to just walk away from that, from someone who loves her like Castle does.

"I think Castle will be back too. We need them. And I _need _to know what the hell has happened with them," Esposito said with a joking smile.

Kevin laughed, and the air around them felt thinner for a moment. Kate Beckett was, for all intents and purposes, their little sister. She could handle herself as well as anyone else, but they would always be there and they would always have her back. They knew that if she was _with _Castle, if they were together, than she would be taken care of, even if Castle was sick. Rick Castle would always put her first.

"We should really go see them," said Kevin softly, during a lull in their conversation.

Javier agreed, nodding. Seeing them felt important, especially Castle. "It's the kind of thing we do when someone in our unit is hurt. We are there for them. We never leave them behind." Javi's voice was intense as he pulled images from his days as a Marine, likening the feeling of standing behind and supporting Castle to never leaving your brother on the battlefield. "It's just what we do," said Javi, his back a bit straighter as he referred to that time in his life.

Ryan stared at his partner, trying and failing to visualize Esposito's experiences, then feeling inadequate at not being able to. Javi didn't talk much about the action he had seen, and Ryan didn't ask. All he knew was that Javi had served his country valiantly and with commitment, and he had brought those values home with him and into the precinct. "Okay, it's settled then," said Ryan after a long, thoughtful pause. "We'll call them and get over there to see them as soon as possible."

"Good," responded Javier. "Because that's what we do."

Kate twisted her fingers and rubbed the polyester material covering her thighs, nervous and feeling like it had been a lifetime since she had last been in Dr. Burke's office. So much had happened that it seemed like forever. It seemed like she had turned the page on her calendar a dozen times since she had been back in this large, dark room, but it had been less than a month. So much had changed.

"Well, Kate, it's very nice to see you again. It's been several weeks since we last had a session. How has life been for you lately?" asked Dr. Burke, opening up their session.

She almost laughed at his question as she thought about all the ways her life had shifted, turned, stepped forward and changed in such a short span of time. This man had no idea how loaded his question was.

"How much time ya got?" Kate asked, joking about the extent of the story she had to tell, and the "to be continued" label taped figuratively onto it all.

Dr. Burke smiled as he looked at his watch, playing along with the joke before quickly relocating his eyes to his patient, seated across from him. "We've got about fifty minutes. Is that enough time?"

"Yeah, it should be," she responded, a sigh tacked onto the end of her sentence. The truth was that she had no idea how to start this story. "I really don't know what to say," she admitted, moving to sit on the arm of the leather couch.

"How about you just start from the beginning, and we'll go from there?" he offered. "You look like you are struggling with something. Perhaps a lot of "something's."

Kate stood up again, walking the length of the couch and back. Dr. Burke had realized during their very first session that she was a mover, she was a runner. When things get uncomfortable or anxiety provoking, she moved. It was as if her own thoughts, her own feelings chased her wherever she went, and she couldn't shake them unless she ran away or opened her damn mouth and spoke. She was trying to speak much more than run these days. God, she was trying so hard.

She closed her eyes, taking in and releasing a breath before she sat back down again. She could feel Dr. Burke's eyes on her, waiting patiently. It made her feel awkward to be stared at while her wheels turned.

Finally she spoke. She was pretty sure that they had lost a significant chunk of their session as she tried to pull the narrative from the pit of her stomach.

"A couple of weeks ago, I ran into Castle outside of the precinct. He was, um, he was having a panic attack, so I took him to one of my spots. One of the places that I went to when things got bad, to get away from at least some of the noise, and to let the tears fall without anybody seeing me or trying to help or rescue me," she said, speaking quickly, purging her brain of all the overflow, all the pressure.

"Why did you bring Castle to that place, Kate?" Dr. Burke asked, his voice soft and objective and gentle.

"I brought him there because he needed it. I'd never seen him like that before," she explained.

"Do you know why Castle was having that panic attack? Was it random or triggered by som-."

Kate didn't let him finish, starting to speak as she stood up again, continuing her pacing, her brow furrowed. "Castle was having a panic attack because he had just found out that he had cancer. _Has_ cancer. _That's _why he had that attack," she clarified.

She sat down once more, afraid that her knees might buckle as she relived that day. She found herself leaning forward over her knees before she covered her face with her hands for a moment, then moved them through her hair, buying time, precious seconds.

"Kate, I am very sorry to hear that about Castle," he said, his voice sounding sincere and genuine. She nodded at him, acknowledging his sympathy with a small, closed mouthed smile. Dr. Burke waited for her to gather herself, to swallow this chapter and move on with her story.

"We started spending more time together, outside of the precinct. A _lot_ of time," she emphasized. "It was friendly, it was us, but then I couldn't really see that wall anymore. It was like it had gone transparent and it suddenly mattered so much less. He mattered more," she said with a shrug, simplifying it with nothing but her last three words: "_He mattered more."_

A long pause filled Kate's internal dialogue with insecurity and uncertainty, and she remembered the silence as being a trademark of Dr. Burke's. He essentially applied a thick coat of awkwardness to Kate's already apprehensive participation, pushing until she either broke, and continued talking, or crossed her arms, remaining stubbornly silent. She hated that, figuring it was a "shrink thing". It pissed her off and made her want to walk out of the room, even though she knew she wouldn't, couldn't.

Burke caved first, and it gave her an immature sense of satisfaction, making her want to jump up, put a finger in his face, and shout "HA!"

"What made you decide that Castle 'mattered more'?" He asked.

"Well, he always has. I just didn't see it. Or I didn't allow myself to acknowledge it. I'm not sure." Kate responded, feeling the weight of the words as she spoke.

"You say you've always known, Detective, but what about _this_ time? What about _that_ day made it easier for you to admit your feelings for the first time? What inspired your ability to share those feelings?"

Kate paused again. This was harder than she had remembered. "I just… I thought of losing him. I thought of not having him in my life. And, I felt like I owed it to him. It felt like it was my chance to do what he has done for me a million times. Then I just couldn't walk away."

"I'm still trying to find a balance, or something," Kate said vaguely.

Dr. Burke cocked his head to the side, a slight smile on his lips. "What do you mean a 'balance', Kate?" he asked.

She sighed loudly. "Well, I've been with him almost constantly since that day. I've gone to his appointments with him, sat with him during chemotherapy, and then it just felt like I couldn't leave. I didn't _want_ to leave him. We started spending the night together, and we decided that we wanted to be together. A commitment, I guess," Kate said with a shrug.

Burke nodded, "And what about that balance doesn't work for you? What doesn't feel right?"

"It wasn't him, or us," Kate said. "I felt it when I went into work. I couldn't concentrate, I couldn't see past the facts, because I felt him everywhere. The guys on my team started covering for me so I could go and be with Rick, but I knew that couldn't last for long. I didn't want it to. I didn't want the guys to take my share of the work or to lie on my behalf. So I went to the Captain," she said.

"And how did that go?" he asked.

"She put me through the ringer. She asked pointed questions that she wanted honest answers to, and that included the truth about Castle and me. She knew I had been leaving my cases and that Kevin and Javi had had my back. She asked me what I needed to do to commit to my caseload, and I told her I needed some time. A week or two."

"How did your Captain respond to your request?"

"She honored it, told me to come back in a week to talk to her, but I hadn't really thought it through. I hadn't really thought that I would likely feel exactly the same way at the end of my time off as I did at the beginning."

She had left herself without a plan. One week off and then what? He would still be sick. He would need her just as much. She had hope that the answers would come clearly, but as each day folded into the next, there were only more questions, more feelings. She couldn't balance it all.

"Are you happy with Castle?" Burke asked as he watched her lips turn upward in a surprising smile.

"Yes, yes," she said, her voice confident and strong for the first time since she had entered his office. "I'm happy and I'm in love with him."

He nodded at Kate, who was trembling at the recoil of her own honesty. Dr. Burke paused for a few seconds while she gathered herself together. "I'm very happy to hear that. I've never heard you call him 'Rick' before. It's indicative of a profound change. It seems to me that you need him as much as he needs you. This has all happened very quickly. How do you feel about that pace?" Burke asked.

"Well, I didn't have a whole lot of say in the matter. It's been a lot like riding a wave, I guess. I don't have much control over where I'm going, but the less I question it, the better I feel about it." Kate paused again, making sense of her thoughts and the answers to his questions. "It's been fast. It's been faster than I thought I was ready for or could even have imagined, but it's _us _and it's _good_," she said. "He reminds me all the time that we've both been each other's most significant partner for the better part of four years anyway. I can't really argue with that. Not anymore."

Dr. Burke smiled at Kate, happy to see her so open. Her smile was wide and bright. It was a strange dichotomy, the opposites in her demeanor and attitude. She had been one of his most closed-off patients in a long time. She was defensive and hurt, wrapped up in a cloak of darkness that was so difficult to get into, to penetrate. The Detective Kate Beckett that sat in front of him today had changed. She seemed to understand her weaknesses much better, and it appeared that she had stopped running from them. It seemed that she had learned that when you run away from the things that are scary and overwhelming, you wind up missing the most beautiful things along the way.

"How do you feel about Castle's diagnosis, Kate?" the doctor asked after a long pause. He crept softly into the question, preparing for barbs of sarcasm and defense to come with her answer, little shields she threw out there to keep people at bay, to keep herself safe. She had learned this defense mechanism when she had lost her mother, and had been using it ever since, desperately trying to avoid the agonizing hurt she associated with the loss of the people she loved.

Kate looked down at her hands as they rested in tight fists in her lap. When she tilted her head upward again, there were tears gathering behind her eyes, and as she bit her lip hard enough to taste blood, she felt a single tear drop slide down her face.

"I am _angry_," she said finally, her teeth clenched. "I'm so resentful. I keep it inside because I know Rick will personalize it or think he should be able to give me more, but he's so wrong, and it _kills_ me to think that he feels responsible for anything," Kate said as her voice began to raise and falter at the same time.

"What, specifically, are you angry at?" Dr. Burke quizzed a look of confusion on his face.

Kate stared back at him, wordless for a long moment as her chest continued to rise and fall heavily. When she started to speak again, it was at barely more than a whisper. "He's just so… He's everything," She said with truthful intensity as the floodgates opened and she could no longer hold them off, at least not today.

She sobbed until she could barely catch her breath, holding her face behind her forearms, both hands drawn up into fists by her forehead. It felt like she had taken up the remainder of the hour by the time she gathered herself enough to tilt her head upward, her vision impaired by the tears that made her eyelids swell. She was surprised to see Dr. Burke still sitting, his body arched towards her as he sat on the edge of his chair. He had put his notepad down, and looked at her, offering safety and reassurance as she had made her way through yet another moment of panic.

Kate's eyes were closed as she leaned back against the couch. She suddenly felt exhausted and a bit self conscious about her display. "Sorry," she said quietly, opening her eyes again.

"I promise that you are not terminally unique, Detective. You are not the first person to have such an experience in this office, and you won't be the last. There is nothing to apologize for, I assure you," He said.

She nodded at him, unsure of what was expected of her now, or what she expected of herself. Could she continue to sit through this? Or was this another opportunity to run? "No," she told herself. If she ran from this, she feared she would open the door for more escapes. She just wasn't willing to take that chance anymore.

"Can I continue?" Kate asked finally, her heartbeat having slowed, it's breakneck pace slowing, fading and taking her anxiety along with it.

"Sure," Burke said. "If you feel comfortable doing so."

She nodded, sitting on the edge of the couch. "I am angry," she began, her voice even and clear in comparison to the primal, emotional syllables she uttered just moments ago. "I'm angry because there is no justice. I hear that word every single day, voiced in a Robin Hood mentality. The bad guys get what's coming to them, and the good guys are rewarded. It doesn't always work that way, though, does it?" she said, looking up at Dr. Burke.

"No, it doesn't," he answered. "It is one of the great mysteries of the world, and what it tells _me _is that there is very little we can do except take responsibility for our own lives and behavior in the present."

He sounded like a prophet, or maybe this was just the perspective that therapists took. Such objectivity was refreshing, but also hard to not be suspicious of. She reminded herself that this wasn't the interrogation room, though. No one was out to get her here.

"I just don't know how to be there for him," she admitted again.

"It sounds to me like you are already 'there for him'. Am I correct?" Burke asked.

She huffed a silent laugh out her nose at the certainty of what she wanted, as well as the impossibility of it. "I want to save him," she shrugged. It was a simple, if problematic desire, though. She knew that. She also knew that explaining it to Castle was out of the question, at least right now. She knew he'd own it and let it eat away at him, and he didn't deserve any of that right now. Kate paused, her eyes shifting in thought. When she spoke again, it was quieter, calmer. "I just… I wasted so much time."

"Well, Detective Beckett, my advice, based on what we've discussed today, would be for you to concentrate on allowing yourself to be loved. You have made great progress. No matter what you do, don't hide from it. Give it and receive it, and maybe take a breather if it's too much, but don't move backwards. Not when you've proven to yourself that you are capable of it, and that it is something that makes you feel good, something that you want. And from what you've told me about Mr. Castle, allowing _yourself _to love _him_ is the greatest foundation for saving you both."

Kate nodded at him, making no excuses. If she had come here today to be reassured, then her expectations had been met. If anything, if felt like the weight the threatened to hold her down had lost at least some of its load, giving her the upper hand.

Dr. Burke stood up, taking his notepad off the desk, smiling at Kate as he glanced at the wall. She was surprised that the session had ended, just when she stopped waiting for it to. "It was very good to see you today, Kate," he said with a smile, met directly by one of her own. "I think you are doing wonderfully, Kate. I would hope that you would come back here if you need to or want to. I would encourage it."

She shook his hand with the grip that her father had taught her to use, the kind that shows respect. "Too many people shake hands like a dead fish," he would say. "If you're gonna shake a hand, shake a damn hand!"

She smiled as she made her way out of his office. She didn't make a follow-up appointment, but she knew that she could, and that she would if she needed to.

Kate and Rick lay in bed facing each other as silent flashes of heat lightning brighten the room, turning night into day for the shortest of instants. They searched for each other in those brief moments, laughing together as they started surprising one another with silly, ridiculous faces. When they gave each other the middle finger at the same time, the light captured both of their smiles. He also saw Kate throw her head back, taking her amazing, enthusiastic laugh with her before it all went dark again.

Rick pulled Kate closer to him so he could curl his arm across her torso, stroking the skin of her side and back as he slid a hand under her tank top.

"You know that we are _supposed_ to be together, right?" he asked. It was a rhetorical question, so she just listened, knowing that he was telling her something, not necessarily asking.

"We've been moving towards each other our entire lives, Kate," he said excitedly, his hand still moving across her back. "I'm the man that you are supposed to dive into it with. I'll be there for you and you'll be there for me. We are so much stronger together, even now."

Kate reached to touch his face, so moved by his words, whether printed in hardcover or spoken softly in the dark of night. Those little snippets were part of _their _story, and hearing him nearly whisper them to her was haunting. Knowing that she was privy to the most private sneak-peeks from his books made her feel extremely privileged. Then there were the exclusive pieces of poetic love that he only shared with her, his warm breath over her ear sending shivers throughout her body. She had never before experienced the exquisite twist in her belly that his touch and his words provoked. She had never imagined it could be like this.

Kate pushed herself forward further into his arms, her lips catching his in the dark. He wrapped himself around her torso while she captured his cheeks, holding his face to hers as he felt her fingers at his sideburns before moving to hold the back of his neck.

"I never really believed in fated love or 'meant to be' or soul mates," She said. "I've always been too practical, too guarded for all that. Especially when I lost my mom. It was like every dream, every bit of magic I had come to believe in was gone. Nothing lasted because nothing mattered, and no matter how good it felt. It meant nothing, because she was gone."

"And now?" he asked, his voice apprehensive, his words spoken softly.

"Now? I'm only scared of losing you, you know that. And I know what you're going to say, but you have to let me work through these feelings. I'm angry at myself for wasting so much time, and as hard as I tried not to admit it for so long, I'm in love with you, Rick, and I DO think that we are meant to be together. I've never felt anything like it before and it scares the hell out of me, Rick. I swear to God, Rick, you'd better not leave me." Her voice trembling as she spoke to him.

Rick sighed, squeezing her tightly before pulling his head back so that he could see her eyes. "I promise you, I will take the best possible care of myself, but you have to do the same. I can't lose you either, Kate. I can't. I won't," Rick said, his voice just as insistent and serious as hers at the thought of one living without the other.

"I want to take you somewhere," Kate said suddenly. They had been quiet for several minutes, but both were awake, caught in their own thoughts as they processed darkened images about showing up just a second too late. They touched each other desperately and they thought about their mutual fears. They saw the worst things in their mind's eye, and hated how vivid the images could be.

Kate could see his outline in the dark as he propped his chin in his palm, held up by his elbow. "Where? When?" he asked, surprised at her spontaneity. He had imagined their first trip together as a couple would come after his own persistence, whether it was a trip to his house in the Hamptons or an all inclusive trip around the world. When they were ready, when he was well and she was ready, he would take her anywhere and everywhere.

"Well we have a few days," Kate responded. "Then the weekend before you have your next chemo treatment and before I have to go in to the precinct to talk to Gates, but we only have to go for a day or two" Kate said, reading and planning with the calendar she seemed to keep inside her head. "And don't worry about not feeling well. You can sleep the whole time if you want to. I just… want to take you somewhere. Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? What's the rush?" he asked, incredulously.

"Trust me, Castle?" she said simply, sitting up, her arms crossed over her chest.

He thought for a moment before looking back towards Kate. He could tell by her position and by the shine in her eyes that she had been looking at him, watching him think. He thought of what a big step this was for Kate, and he knew that it had to be important. They would be okay. She had said they could take it easy, and he would have his medication with him. There was no reason, no excuse he could come up with to _not_ go. Things like this were helping them to grow as a couple. How could he possibly say 'no'?

Castle reached for her in the shadows, his hand molding against her warm cheek. She moved her face towards his as he gently pulled until their lips met. "Yeah," he said, their lips still lightly touching. "I would love to go."

At Rick's suggestion, and to Kate's delight, they had awoken and had decided to take a morning walk through Central Park. Kate normally ran on the paths in the huge green space, making her way in off of 5th Avenue. She usually pounded her feet into the pavement, her teeth gritting as she ran hard and aggressively. The combined feelings of a fit, awakened body and a windpipe that burned as she tried to maintain her breath made her feel accomplished as she ended her route, while also inspiring anxiety as she fought to get her strength back. It was motivated self punishment, and she was more than happy to no longer feel the obsessive urge to take those intense runs. At least not every day anymore.

Today, they walked slowly through the park, their fingers laced together loosely. Rick weighed the feeling of the ache in his bones with the intimate contact of walking hand in hand, and decided that they pain was worth it. The sun was low in the sky and everything green was covered in a haze of dew. The shape the day would take was always a mystery, but Rick was learning to live with the reality of feeling somewhere less than one hundred percent almost all of the time. Just like we get used to and accustomed to our setbacks in the darker version of this life, we learn to reconcile them, integrate them into our lives. Sometimes, true knowledge and wisdom comes by learning to live in the dark, alone.

He could not spend his days locked up in his loft anymore, at least if he could help it. Getting out and walking in the city made him feel alive, and doing it with Kate made his heart flutter. She was really with him. It still felt impossible, like a dream, but when her lips landed on his and her hand cupped his face, he reveled in the knowledge that this was real, all of it.

Walking with her past the beautiful lawns and hills, taking their time as they continued to hold each other's hands was one of those things that he was not willing to give up, even if he felt tired sooner than normal or had to respond to a sudden wave of nausea. He would deal with those sacrifices as long as she was there with him, willing to help him push himself out of bed or into his clothes or through the winding walkways of Central Park.

"Someday we'll be doing this, looking back and remembering how difficult it felt," Kate said, slowing down to look into his eyes. "We'll breathe in relief, because we'll be well and we'll be together."

Kate sounded so certain, as if she could see their future selves, their doppelgangers walking in front of them a decade down the road. Kate surprised herself as she imagined baby carriages and the feel of twisting a wedding ring around her finger.

Her confidence was encouraging, and it was further evidence of the commitment she had to them, together. He squeezed her hand tighter as he imagined their "someday". He had to believe in that "someday". That "someday" was helping to keep him not just alive, but _living_.

When he met Kate at the sidewalk the next morning after quickly throwing a few things in a bag, he saw why she insisted on taking the Crown Victoria as opposed to something they could take the top down on. She had covered the wide backseat with sheets, a blanket and a pillow, for him. His heart clenched as he looked up at her, their eyes meeting immediately, her smile wide and true. She was pleased with herself, and she had reason to be, evidenced by the pounding rhythm in her chest.

"It's not that far, but I just figured if you got uncomfortable you could always crash in-" Kate was interrupted by his aggressive lips on hers, and as his tongue pushed at her lips, she opened her mouth to him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

They wound up leaning against the car, bound to one another, covering each other. "I love you," Rick said as their lips parted, their foreheads still connected.

"I love you, too," Kate responded, staying in his arms as she caught her breath. She allowed herself to sway in the loose swing of his forearms, connected by his fingers. "You ready?" she asked, her lips breaking into an enthusiastic smile. He kissed her quickly before nodding his head. "Let's go," he said.

He felt alright, so he sat next to her in the passenger seat, but looked back several times at the bed she had arranged for him in the back. It was one of the sweetest gestures he had ever felt from her, and he almost felt obligated to use it, even if he didn't really need to.

Kate drove as they made their way out of the city, weaving through Manhattan traffic and getting caught at countless red lights, but once the city was left behind them, navigating was easier. "Are you gonna tell me where we're going yet?" Rick asked again, and as she shook her head at him, her eyes not moving from the road, he couldn't say that the mystery actually surprised him. She never stopped surprising him. Why would that change now?

She reached over to cover his hand as it rested on his thigh, bouncing their connected fingers against him, lightening the moment. "We'll be there soon, Rick. I just want you to see it first. It's an important place to me, and I want it to be important to you, too," she explained.

Rick was nearly moved to tears every time Kate said or did something that took him off guard. He remembered how difficult it had been to get through to her, to make her feel safe enough to open up to him about anything. Now that she seemed to be revealing herself willingly, he would always wait, He would wait forever for the pieces that made up all of her.

After just over two hours spent in mostly comfortable silence, light touches reminding them that they were doing this, that they were _together_. Rick craned his neck out the window as Kate pulled off the road. They were almost immediately riding and bumping as she slowed down while driving on the dirt road. She drove towards the front of a modest cabin, parking in the circular, dirt driveway. She put the car in park and unbuckled her seat belt. As Rick stepped out of the car, he stretched his limbs with a roar before taking in the surroundings. He saw the cabin and the privacy, then turned and noticed the lake in front of him, likely a perfect view from the picture window.

Rick stopped for a moment, his head turning much slower as he met Kate's eyes. "Kate," he said, his voice low and understanding. "This is where you-"Rick continued, interrupted by Kate's voice.

"This is where I stayed after the shooting," she confirmed, finishing his sentence. My Dad took care of me here, helped nurse me back to health. I just wanted you to see it. I've never brought anyone here before."

"Not even Josh?" Castle asked, immediately regretting the words that had tumbled out of his mouth. Josh Davidson didn't matter, and bringing him up only succeeded in spinning them further away from each other. "I'm sorry Kate, I shouldn't have asked that. It's none of my business," Rick apologized, his head hanging, hiding his eyes from her.

"Josh never came here," Kate revealed, matter-of-factly. "We were done before I even left the hospital."

Castle's shock left his speechless, and his eyes shot back up to meet hers as he started to understand where she had taken him. This place was so important to both of them, even if he had never seen it, even though they had never been here before, not together. The summers they spent apart, not just after her shooting but all of them, no matter how physically separate they had been, nothing could break the connection that resided in their hearts, their minds and souls. It's what kept him coming back, and ultimately when Kate learned about her heart and her capacity to fall in love.

Rick stood behind her with their overnight bag as she turned the key and pushed open the front door. He looked down at the single duffel in his arms, smiling to himself as he thought about their belongings commingling, sharing the space inside the bag. It was only a day or two that they would be away, and packing two bags was decidedly impractical. Rick couldn't stop thinking about how intimate it was at the same time.

The cabin was rustic, homey, and even romantic in the right company. It was rugged but safe, classic but beautiful. It was surrounded by woods with deep, winding paths, and the lake that was practically outside the door was beautiful still and clear. He smiled as he looked around him, taking in the surroundings, imagining her physical and emotional improvements at this place that had hid her from him.

"Come here," Kate said, reaching for his hand as she motioned for him to come closer. When he finally moved into her space, closer to her body, she wrapped her arms around his torso, her head leaning against his chest. The light scrape of his short fingernails across her back made her shudder, and she stayed silent until she gained just a bit of the courage she needed to make things right. There couldn't be any secrets between them. Lies would be the end of them.

"I wanted you here with me every day," Kate said against him, his shirt transferring her warm breath to his skin. His body went stiff at her words, at how contrary they were to her behavior during those heart wrenching months. He wanted to be angry. He wanted to ask her why she had left him, although he wasn't sure that such details were even his business. He wanted it all to be water under the bridge, a moot point, but it still hurt him because he still hadn't gotten an answer. Maybe he _did_ spring it on her. Could he have really expected a relationship to bloom from loss in the melancholic moments of funerals and snipers, blood and residual trauma from bullets through the heart? They were just partners at the time, and she was seeing someone else. Still, though, they were here now, and she had brought_ him_ here. He only wanted answers because he wanted them to survive this, all of it, together. He didn't want her to be afraid of them or of _him_, of anything.

Kate took his hand, allowing his much larger, broader one to swallow her tiny, slender fingers in his larger, masculine ones. He felt the tug of them, and when her feet began to move, he followed, coming to a stop with her at the couch. She pointed at the end, against the armrest and several pillows, indicating that she wanted him to sit, to essentially be swallowed by the soft, worn pillows. She stayed standing until he sat and pushed himself backwards, then she moved to sit up against his chest, his arms loose around her neck where he lightly caressed her with the fingers that hung low and casually. "I thought about you and I read your words," Kate said, finally. "I told myself that "tomorrow" would be the day when I would pick up the phone, but days turned into weeks and then months. It felt like the phone weighed a thousand pounds. So I went on to your website and saw that you would be wrapping up your book tour, doing a signing here in the city. I almost collapsed. It seemed like the only place where I would be able to find you, where neither of us would run. It was selfish. I know that now."

He moved his hands up and down her arms when she went silent to catch her breath. Kate didn't often open her heart this wide, so Rick wouldn't push. He knew better than that, and was already proud of what she was doing for them.

"I felt so useless and torn and angry and sad, Kate revealed as she continued where she left off, turning into Rick's body so that he could see at least half of her face as it lay on his shoulder. "I felt so much more alone that I ever wanted to be. I've never had an issue with being on my own, Rick, but I just felt so empty in _here_," she said, bringing her hand up to her chest. "The scar was a constant reminder of what had happened to me, but even more than that, it was a symbol of how much I had lost and the mistakes I had made. I wanted you here with me every day," She said again, further emphasizing the words that meant so much to both of them, now that the truth was being broken open. "I knew that if I just picked up the phone, you would be here. I fought with myself so much, trying to convince myself that I didn't love you, that you weren't the man I had been waiting for."

Rick's hands kept moving across her shoulders and down her arms, even as her words brought him back to those dark days when he pulled his cellular phone from his pocket every minute or two, hoping to see that he had missed a call or a text from her, hoping that he was closer to her than he felt. For three months, though, she didn't call, she didn't text, so there was nothing to miss. He struggled with the notion that she would leave him like that, even though he had no real right to expect her to do anything for him. He had just nearly given up hope when she showed up at his book signing, her voice cutting through him as she asked him to make it out to "Kate". He had himself convinced that day that his anger would be enough to motivate _him _to walk away. Instead, his heart won out over his head, just as it always did for her.

"I wanted to come find you," Rick said. "I wanted to take care of you. I wanted you to want me, too."

Kate turned around, climbing over his legs until she straddled him, wrapping her arms around his neck and touching her forehead to his. She wanted to apologize, but she knew he would cut her off. She knew he would tell her that she had apologized enough, and that he didn't need to hear it to believe in her, so she didn't need to say it. Nonetheless, it was heartbreaking to imagine what he had gone through over that summer. It was what _she_ had put him through.

They sat connected long enough for the sun to shift, lighting the kitchen after it had skirted past them in the living room. The way he touched her, soft and reverent, made her marvel at what she was learning about how love actually felt. If what she had with Castle was love, and she couldn't imagine anything feeling better than _this_, than _them_, then it pretty much meant she had never truly been in love in her life. It was an intense thought, but she was okay with it, because _this _felt so damn good.

Kate pushed herself up so that she was sitting between his thighs, and looked back at his face. He smiled in that sincere way that makes the corners of his eyes tighten, revealing the lines that had sharpened after years and years of smiles and laughter. Rick reached towards her face, tucking her loose tendrils of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering everywhere he touched.

"How are you feeling?" Kate asked, feeling in her body how easy it would be so easy to forget, and to push him too hard. "I'm okay," he said, a reassuring tone to his voice, his head cocked with a smile on his face. "Are you hungry?" she asked, internally chastising herself for nagging. Rick simply shook his head "no".

"Come with me," Kate said, reaching for his hand with hers outstretched behind her. Kate led them to the back door, a large glass slider that provided a wonderful view of the lake barely a stone's throw away. As she guided him out the door, he took note of the large porch with an outdoor table and umbrella set and a decent sized grill. He could imagine the wonderful times that could be had in this environment. They were away from the outside world, not a single noise to be heard besides the crunching of the leaves beneath their feet. Rick felt small in comparison to the tall trees and their life spans. The trees, dynamic in their variety but all so tall, likely had stood in their spots long before Kate and Rick had been born into this life, and would surely remain long after they were gone.

"Are you okay?" Kate asked, stopping and looking back at him, noticing that his pace had slowed since they left the house, and that his constant speech, his need to describe everything around him had quieted down.

He simply nodded at her, a reassuring smile on his face. "Keep going," he said, squeezing her hand. "It's just really beautiful out here."

"Mm-hmm," Kate agreed. When they reached the small dock that Jim Beckett had built years ago, Kate looked briefly over the water, the beautiful, linear reflection of the sun. She did love it here, but he was the only one who could have made it better. She sat down on the wooden tie-up, pulling him next to her. She was glad, and so relieved that he was there with her now.

They sat close, their shoulders and sides touching as they played with the different ways their hands could be connected. Kate saw Rick's head pick up, looking out over the water before him. He looked pensive, thoughtful. She squeezed his hand again, just once, to bring him back to her.

"The day of that book signing, I thought I was seeing a ghost. I honestly thought I was never going to see you again, Kate," he said, turning his head to look in her eyes, straight on, no hiding places.

She kept pushing her apologies back inside. She knew it wasn't what he wanted to hear. It broke her heart to hear just how confused and hurt he still was, after all this time. What he didn't know was that they had done a large percentage of their suffering together, simultaneously but separate. It wasn't until she convinced him to sit with her on the swings, to listen to what she was capable of saying at that moment that she finally found at least some relief. She was so glad he had stayed.

"I've gone to our swings a few times since that day, "she revealed. "Always imagining you beside me. Rick, I know how bad I've screwed this up, and there aren't many guarantees that I can make. I don't even believe my own words half the time, but I am certain about you, about us." Kate turned her body so that she was open to him, directly facing him. "I will do anything to make sure that we get to keep this," she said, motioning between the two of them as she spoke.

Rick's eyes glistened with unshed tears, salty drops he desperately tried to hold back, but she has these ways of undoing him, moments when their four years together flash in his mind's eye. All the unacknowledged looks, the pretense and subtext, the laughter and light moments. And then there were the rarer times that spoke volumes, times when crossing the threshold seemed just within reach, only to be disturbed by family or co-workers or personal fears.

Those swings, that little park became a refuge for their hope, and it ultimately set Rick back in whatever direction she was headed in, to follow her again, for as long as it took. "Do you know what I was saying to you that day?" Kate asked.

"I thought I did. I think I did," Rick answered, wanting to hear it from her.

Kate giggled quickly in that adorable way she does when she is nervous or is buying time or searching for the words to say to him. She tilted into his side, her head landing in the crook of his arm and chest. She slid closer to him on her bottom as well, not stopping until her legs touched his. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her closer still and planting a kiss on her head.

"I was trying to tell you that I wanted to be yours," Kate began, her words lightly muffled by her mouth against Rick's shirt. "I wanted it, wanted only you, but I just wasn't ready, Rick. I knew I would run or break your heart and I couldn't. I wanted to, though," she said again. "The relationship that I wanted was with _you_. I just had to get there. I tried so hard to explain it to you that day on the swings. I tried so hard to tell you the truth without having to actually come right out and say it," Kate explained.

Rick closed the short distance between them, pulling her into his lap so that she was facing him, her legs straddling him, her forehead resting against his. He held his hands on her hips, holding her to him as they shared their commingling breaths. Kate angled her chin towards his face, covering his lips with her own, their kiss quickly moving from soft and languid to aggressive and passionate. Their arms began to wrap around one another, pulling their bodies as close as possible, closing all the gaps between them.

They sat and rocked together for what felt like hours but may have been just seconds. They got lost in specifics like time and space, because really, the only thing that truly existed during these moments was each other. Kate looked up at the darkening sky at dusk, sliding her hands across the back of his head, pulling him closer.

"I love you," she said, simply and with an air of truth and confidence that he absolutely believed. He pulled her head back so that he could see her face, and he moved his hands from her waist to either side of her face, cupping the burning warmth of her cheeks. "I love you, Kate," he said, searching her eyes and nearly losing his breath when he found so much emotion in those greenish-brown orbs.

Kate pulled away from him to stand up, his eyes following her every move. "It's getting dark," she said. "Let's go back to the cabin," she said, as she reached her arm down to help pull him to his feet. He reached across her back, walking his fingers until they wrapped around the smooth curve of her lower back, on the far side of her body, beneath her shoulders. They walked in silence, but connected at every possible point as they slowly strolled back towards the quaint, private little house.

As they made their way up the back steps and onto the porch, they were both startled by the sharp, high pitched crackle of a firework shooting towards the sky. For a split second, Kate feared the worst, nearly pulling them both to the ground. When the sound exploded into brilliant blues and silvers high in the darkening sky, however, she found herself breaking into the enthusiastic laugh that reminded him of the beautiful, raw laughter that had overtaken her after Castle had pulled the wires on the dirty bomb.

They turned around together, facing the lake again as the booms and reports came quicker and with the most brilliant color combinations. Kate stood against the wooden rail of the deck, reaching around to grab Rick's hands, pulling them around her waist so that he stood immediately behind her, up against her. He laid his chin in the sharp crook between her neck and shoulder.

He felt her body tighten, then release as each rocket burst above them, across the firmament. Kate figured that the fireworks were coming from the cabin just across the lake. Still, it felt like the display was meant for them, and she chuckled to herself when she imagined that this was _just _the kind of thing that Rick would have planned, sparing no expense, and probably arranging to have her name and hearts explode across the sky. He would have likely rented a barge to accommodate the most professional of special effects experts. It was safer than striking a match and running away, although she knew that practicality would never have been his motivation. He would have put the entire, beautiful show on his Platinum card, hoping to have done enough to blow her mind away.

Kate decided that she liked it better this way, though. She liked the impromptu dance of lights and fiery sparks, along with the perfect feeling of him behind her, holding her close. As a practically endless stream of pyrotechnics were shot into the sky, exploding in every direction for the grand finale, he pulled her even tighter to him, their hands twining together at her midsection.

As the sky went dark again, they both released the breaths they didn't know they had been holding. Kate turned around in his arms to look up at him, his blue eyes still shining even on the darkest side of dusk. He lowered his head toward hers, stopping only when their lips were just millimeters away from one another, the heat from their mouths tickling, eliciting quiet smiles from them both.

Kate closed the distance, laying her lips upon his, starting with a slow exploration before they moaned together, their passion detonating like the fireworks they had just watched together. They stayed connected, hands and mouths.

Kate took his hand, circling around him and pulling him with her through the sliding door. He watched her as she stopped by the kitchen, finding her way through the dark. It was clearly a space that she had navigated many times before, in both the best and worst of conditions. As she closed the cabinet and started walking again, she flicked her chin at him, indicating for him to follow. She laughed when he came up quickly behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and planting his open mouth on her neck. It felt good, almost so much so that they were both nearly distracted from the truth that seemed to always hold a place in the most active parts of their brains.

As they stumbled together into the bedroom, Kate placed the bottle and the glasses on the night side table before turning around and taking his cheeks in her hands. She kissed him slowly, feeling him smile against her lips as he enveloped her waist with his arms, nearly lifting her off the ground.

As Kate rubbed her thumbs back and forth across his skin, she pulled back when she felt the sweat and heat radiating from his forehead, his ears, the back of his neck. "How are you feeling?" she asked, touching her lips to his brow, then moving them to his temple. He was hot. Feverish. She wished there was a thermometer somewhere in the cabin, but it was one of those items that was rarely needed during a summer vacation by the lake.

"You have a fever," she said, pulling his face back to her as she watched his eyes move away from hers.

"Probably," he said, disappointment and sadness coating his voice. "I'm sorry."

She held his face in her hands again, shaking her head as she pulled him to her, covering his lips with her own. "No apologies," she mumbled, taking a page from his rule book.

Kate let go of him, reaching to turn the bedside lamp on, then turning the dimmer switch so that they were bathed in a comforting orange glow that made the shadows, _their _shadows bounce across the walls and ceiling... She pulled the comforter back, then sat on the soft mattress, their eyes locked onto one another through the entire domestic process. She patted the bed next to her, and continued to watch him as he made his way around to the far side, kicking his jeans off before climbing into the bed next to her.

The windows were open, and the sounds that accompanied this private, bucolic location were so beautifully different than the sounds of the city. The chirping of grasshoppers and cicadas, the throaty whoop of owls and other nocturnal birds, and the sharp crack of larger animals roaming the woods around them were comforting noises. More mysterious but less unsettling than the sound of sirens, of drunken people loudly looking for trouble once the bars yelled for last call. The aggressive, relentless shout of the island of Manhattan was often overwhelming to those who were new to the city, but they quickly started to fade into the background as time offered adjustment to the newer, overwhelming stimuli. Castle listened to the nighttime lullaby, feeling his body loosen even further into this place, her place. It was the place where, for her, everything had changed, and truthfully, it had changed for him too, despite the fact that this was his first time setting foot into their cabin. He could understand now why this would have been the ideal place to rest and recover.

Kate lay on her side, focusing on the outline of Rick's body under the covers. Her chin rested in the palm of her hand so that she could see his face, so that she could watch the rise and fall of his chest. His face was soft and relaxed and vulnerable, and for Kate, it took all that she had to not reach for him. She studied his features, taking note of how they had relaxed, loosened. He looked relieved, the lines of his eyes that creased when he smiled.

Rick turned back towards her, smiling when he saw that he had caught her, that her eyes were already focused on him. He leaned down to her, holding her chin as they kissed, varying their rhythm from breakneck to languid, their hands roaming everywhere until they reluctantly pulled apart. As their foreheads maintained the connection, they listened to the sounds of their intense, concentrated passion, sweating against each other

"Can I ask you something?" he inquired, reluctantly, softly. There was no accusation in his voice, just a need to understand. Their fingers rolled against one another as he straightened his to fuse them closer together, connected, so that neither of them could run from this.

She nodded her head, her face glowing in the dim orange cast of the lamp. Her features were muddled but the sharp lines that built "Kate" were undeniable to him. He could recognize the attributes that made her _her_ in any quality of light, on the ground or atop the highest mountain. Night or day, asleep or awake, he could pick her out of any lineup.

Kate was both nervous and completely certain of what was coming next. This was part of why she had brought him here, so that they could discuss the things that they still hid behind. This was part of moving ahead for her, for him, for them, and she was sure that taking this step was only fair. This was how they would breathe again. This was how they would _live._

"You heard me." he said, waiting patiently. It wasn't a question or an accusation, it wasn't an admonishment, but simply a gentle acknowledgement of the truth that they both knew every facet of. Simplified, it was just three small words that defined what he was asking in that moment, but it all held so much weight. She considered her lie to him to be one of the biggest mistakes she had ever made, cringing when she thinks about all the damage left in her wake, stemming from that one ill advised denial, and she wished every day that she would somehow be able to make it up to him. She didn't want to just be "complicated" anymore. He deserved more.

"Yeah. I did. I heard you," she admitted, avoiding excuses. She had spent long moments searching for the perfect words for this, but they didn't exist. Words were_ his_ specialty, but she was the one who had the ability to absolve both of them of their pain by finally being honest, consequences be damned. It was the only _right _way for them to move forward together. She couldn't carry that weight on her shoulders any longer.

All they had now was the truth. Everything else was just baggage.

Kate reached for his hand, sighing with relief when he allowed her to take it, then smitten when he stroked her hand as he held it.

Kate breathed heavily, filling her lungs enough to keep her talking, to make things right. "Hearing you tell me that you loved me was more jarring than the bullet that had just torn through my chest," she said, shocking him with that revelation, as he caught her reflection looking out the window and into the dark, watching the moon shine over the mirror still water. And then when I saw you walk into my hospital room with those flowers, I lied. … I just lied," she said, "I was completely out of it, scared of you, tired of Josh, and feeling the internal tear and stinging tug of the wound. When I said I'd call you, I promise you that I meant it, Rick. I know that doesn't likely mean much now, but I meant to keep that promise, rather than leave you in limbo for so long. I didn't have it in me to tell you that I felt the same or that I wanted to be with you, "I… I just didn't have it in me to give." Kate said as a few errant tears fell over her cheeks.

Rick pulled her hand up to his mouth, kissing her knuckles and squeezing her fingers while trying to channel encouragement and understanding as she choked on her words. He grabbed her other hand as both support and as an anchor, as there was still a piece of her that he was afraid would walk away. He was instantly relieved when she squeezed his hand in return, pulling it with hers into her lap.

"When you said it," she began again, "when you said 'I love you', for a split second, it was all there was. For an instant I felt my heart clench in that exciting way it does when you ride a rollercoaster… or when you're in love with someone. It's the way I feel when you say it to me now, but it was so quick, and then it was chaos. Blood pumping in my ears. I could hear Lanie screaming. I heard a lot of screams, actually. And then I saw your face looking down at me. You told me you loved me, and then you were the last thing I saw. My chest felt like it was splitting open. It was excruciating. But then I felt your hands on my arms, and you were stronger. I felt you _more_. Then everything went black. Everything was gone. So _that's _what I remember."

Castle reached for her as he watched her body tremble, pulling her against him. He debated whether to leave the space between them, thinking she might need it, but he couldn't fight with his better judgment. He couldn't fight with his love for her.

"I tried to be angry with you," she continued, grasping his hands and cradling them between their chests, resting them in contact with both of their skin. They had an uncanny connection when it came to each other's feelings and emotions, and sometimes they said only what was necessary before allowing their hands, eyes, and mouths to finish the conversation. Tonight, though, she could only do them justice under the circumstances with him and her, just them and no distractions. No cold feet, despite the irreversible risk one takes things with words spoken out loud. "I tried to pretend that you hadn't said it, or at least that you didn't mean it," she said. He tried to reach for her face, only to be playfully, lightly swatted away. She felt him move closer to her, so she moved a hand to travel the expanse of his side. "Just let me finish," she whispered as she turned her face towards his, leaving a long kiss by his ear.

"I managed to convince myself that you had said it as a foxhole prayer, that you sprung it on me, maybe unfairly," she said, feeling his body tense against hers. "Whether that was true or not," she continued, "I loved you before you said it, and I still loved you after. I'm sorry, Castle. I'm still sorry," she finished, feeling the quake of both of their bodies.

They grabbed a hold of one another tightly, finally feeling each other's tears as they rolled across their skin. "When I said I'd call, I meant it. I should have called," Kate mumbled again, through her tears.

"No." he said, rocking her in his arms. "I get it. It was my fault and I'm sorry for… for expecting." Rick stumbled over his words, trying to separate the pain he felt back then with the fortunate truth he was so grateful to be living now. Whether she should feel bad about it or not, it was irrelevant, so he decided that he didn't want her to. They had both made mistakes, and he wouldn't allow her to punish herself for hers, not now, not when there were no guarantees. There had been no time for thinking that day in the cemetery, but if there had been, he might have waited before speaking the most important words he had ever said to her. He had scared her off, and he really couldn't blame her.

They held each other for a long time. It had been long enough for the sky to turn from a starlit, almost matte black into more of a navy blue. After lingering moments in each other's arms, breathing heavily, Rick pulled backwards a bit. He reached his hand down to her, her tearstained face looking back up at him, breaking his heart. He felt resistance as his arms snaked across her neck and back, trying to pull them together. When they had finally moved upright, he pulled her into another tight hug, bringing her into his lap, allowing them the time to straighten and settle in each other's arms, to feel their certainty, to feel how _strong _they are together.

Their heads gradually rested upon each other's shoulders, their breath gradually slowing as they held one another, their clothes strewn upon the bed, the floor, the remainder still covering their bodies. His head had turned away from her, looking and listening instead, his ears pointed toward the nearest window, the shutters open a crack. They began to doze, only to be startled awake when their bodies began to fall, making them chuckle sleepily at their clumsiness.

Finally, Rick lowered them back down to the mattress, keeping them connected as they lay together. Kate moved her leg in between his to wrap them closer together, their hands roving gently across their sensitized skin. As their movements slowed, and their breathing evened out, one of her last conscious thoughts was of how much lighter she felt, and she laughed almost silently as she silently mouthed the cliché, "the truth will set you free." Corny or not, it was the truth.

"Girlfriend," he mumbled, so quiet she nearly missed it completely, the hard edges of the word softened by sleepiness. "Hmm?" Kate asked, just as tired, just as worn out.

"I said 'girlfriend'," he repeated, his efforts making it a bit easier to understand. Clearing his throat, he continued. "It's just such an inadequate word," he said as he pulled her closer, her face not much more than an inch or two away from his, sharing the same pillow. Kate reached around his neck, pulling him into her chest as she tried not to cry from the weight of the moment. The last time she had slept in this bed, she was so alone.

When she woke up, she looked towards him as she felt his fingers gingerly caressing her skin. He smiled at her, his eyes so bright, matching the intensity of his beaming grin.

"Good morning," he said, lowering his head to meet hers in a searing kiss.

"Good morning to you," she responded as they broke apart, her fingers playing at the back of his head. She moved quickly to reverse their positions, and she laughed at the girly shriek he made as she hovered over him, her arms extended at either side of his head, holding her body above his.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, touching his forehead, cheeks and temple with her closed lips. She didn't feel the heated intensity that came off of him in waves the night before, and for that she was so relieved.

"I feel good, Kate," he responded. "I promise."

She could imagine how frustrating it must be to live in an omnipresent unsteadiness, physical feelings ranging from fit and strong all the way to miserable and perpetually exhausted. It was always a crap shoot, but they both felt so comforted to wake up to a day mounted in strength. Kate felt like a weight had been taken from her shoulders as she recalled the progress they had made last night, all the honesty and truth they had shared.

"I'll go make some coffee," Kate said, grabbing his foot affectionately as she got out of bed and moved towards the bedroom door. She stopped just inside room, turning on her heel to look back at him. "Get dressed if you're feeling up to it," she said, "I've got something I want to show you." He smiled at her glowing face, watching her as she walked out of the room.

Rick loved seeing her in this personal element, imagining her here as a child, running through the trees like a labyrinth, and flying into the water off of a tire swing that had long since gone missing over the years.

He pulled on a pair of khaki shorts and a plain black t-shirt, then followed the smell of brewing coffee, his bare feet padding across the wood floor. She smiled when she saw him, and then laughed when he came up behind her as she was preparing the coffee, wrapping his arms around her waist and leaving a wet kiss to the back of her neck.

On the counter were two mismatched travel mugs, their lids sitting next to them. One had an NYPD logo on it, while the second was light blue, and circled with a parade of elephants. She handed him the one with the elephants, and it made him smile. It was _her _mug, and she wanted him to use it. He knew he was making a much bigger deal out of it than he needed to, and maybe it wasn't that important in the grand scheme of things, but in this moment, in this cabin with her, it was very important.

"What's with the travel mugs?" he asked as the coffee coated his throat. It was _her _brand, and it tasted like her.

She smiled him and wiggled her eyebrows at him, then waved her finger back and forth before leaving her mug on the counter and heading into the bedroom. "Changing, I'll be right back," she yelled to him, and he craned his neck to watch her take a left into her doorway. After a few short minutes, much shorter than it normally took for her to get ready on an average work day, she reappeared in the hallway, pulling her hair into a loose ponytail, then moving back into the kitchen, picking up her coffee and taking a long sip.

She looks adorable in cutoff denim shorts and a thin blue t-shirt. It looked soft, like it would feel good beneath his fingers.

"So, the travel mugs, Kate?" he asked again. "Where are we "traveling" to?"

"We aren't going far, I promise," she said. "I just don't want us to spill our delicious morning sacrament," she joked, smiling when he laughed loudly.

"Ready?" she asked, reaching her arm towards him. As he grabbed her hand, she led them to the back door, sliding it open and closed, before heading off the porch steps and into the forest she literally had in her backyard.

She was right, they didn't need to go far to find their destination. "Wow," Castle said as he looked up at the most amazing tree house he had ever seen. She laughed at his reaction. She knew that he would love this.

"Where? Wh- How?" he stammered, and Kate laughed even louder to see that he was _this_ excited about a tree house, and that she had _finally_ figured out how to get him to shut his mouth.

"My dad built it for me when I was a kid," she said. "It was all I ever asked for on birthdays or for Christmas, so one year he finally did it. I spent so much time up there," she said.

"It took him a whole summer to build and reinforce. He wanted it to be completely safe, mostly because he kept saying that he wanted _my _kids to be able to use it. That always seemed weird to me, but it doesn't anymore."

Castle stared at her, his heart pounding in his chest.

"The idea of having kids doesn't seem like such an impossibility anymore," she added with a shrug.

Rick continued to gaze at her, his jaw hanging in disbelief. He took a broad step towards her, his palms landing on her cheeks. He pulled her face towards his and kissed her with a fervor that was rejuvenating, freeing. He pulled back just a bit, still close enough that their lips still brushed even when they didn't mean for them to.

"You want to have kids with me?" he asked, their breath mingling with the fresh air that hadn't been encumbered by smog and trash and smoke.

"I want to have everything with you," Kate answered quickly, realizing that it was probably the most honest, soul baring, intimate thing she had ever said to him.

He pulled her into a crushing hug, his mouth resting against her neck, his hands running across the smooth span of her back. "You wanna go up? In the tree house?" she asked, her mouth moving from his ear to his cheek, dropping little kisses across his face.

"Seriously?" he asked.

"Seriously." She responded with a smile. "My dad built this house with a capacity for about ten grown men. We should test it out for the kids, though," she said with a wink, as she turned around to grab hold of the ladder.

Castle was overwhelmed when his head poked out of the whole in the floor. He had always wanted a tree house, and then he had hoped for Alexis to have one. She never really asked, though, and he wasn't much of a handyman, so he shelved the plans permanently. He debated building one for himself, but Alexis convinced him that it was a ridiculous idea for a grown man to build himself a tree house. "It's _creepy" _she had told him.

Being here with Kate, though, pulling himself up and finally being inside one, It kind of felt like magic. There was a bench built into the wall, and Kate motioned for him to join her, but he was distracted by the pictures with family and friends tacked up on the walls and the countless crayon scrawls, and her name, "Katie", written everywhere. There was a dream catcher and folded paper cranes hanging from the ceiling, candy wrappers on the floor and a tiny key. It was one of the generic types that come with little girl's diaries. Alexis had owned dozens of them over the years.

As he finally sat down next to Kate, who looked preoccupied with her coffee, he picked up a small bracelet hanging on a nail hammered into the wall, noting how tiny the wrist of the wearer would have to be. It overwhelmed him to hold something that had likely been there since she left it here, since it left her memory, when she was just a child.

He looked up at her, reaching for her when he watched her eyes swell. He pulled her into him, feeling her curl up against him.

"Did you sleep okay?" she asked into his jacket. He nodded against her face, and then he took a sip from his mug. Surprisingly, after they had finished talking last night, he felt himself floating into a dreamless sleep without even thinking about his sleeping meds.

"Thank you for last night," Rick said, sincerity in his voice. "Thank you for being honest with me, and for reliving that, telling that story."

"Thank you for allowing me to explain it, for understanding," she responded, pulling his arms around her waist.

The way they did this, listened to each other and talked and shared, it felt like it _worked._ He felt closer to her after just a day away from the world, the misunderstandings, the fear and all the noise.

"Thank you for bringing me here," he said, taking her hand and linking their fingers together. "For what it's worth, I'm really glad that you were able to come here to recover, instead of in a hospital or alone in your apartment." He wanted to add that _he _should have been the one to nurse her back to health, he wanted to tell her that he wished she had asked for him, but they both knew that, and it was a painful memory for both of them to look back on hypothetically. They had crossed so many bridges last night, brought back so much of them, there were now some things that could be put away, and it was a relief to them both.

"You're welcome, Rick," she said.

"You were right," he said, and she turned her head towards him, curious, the side of her face against his chest. "You were right," he repeated. "Coffee in the tree house, best idea ever."

She laughed into his side, a muffled chuckle captured by his arms, which reached even tighter around her, leaving them both panting as they relaxed into one another.

They sat quiet for a while, sipping their coffees and looking out the large open square cut into the wall. It was like a giant picture window, but without the glass. From this bird's-eye-view perspective, it looked as if the lake was right below them, dark and choppy, the light breeze leaving tiny white caps on the water.

"What are you going to do about work?" Castle asked suddenly, even if it wasn't a surprise, exactly. They had both had been thinking about it, about what would happen when they left this idyllic spot in a few hours to return to the reality of the city. He moved forward so that their cheeks touched. Kate sighed, still unsure, but running out of time. "What are you going to tell Gates?" he continued.

He would willingly and proudly spend every second with her if he thought that was what she wanted, but being a detective had been both her dream and the one certain way for her to avenge her mother's death. It was how they had met each other, and he wouldn't try to stop her, he couldn't, because no matter what _he _wanted, he could never keep her from her doing what she was absolutely remarkable at.

"I need to know that I'm still a detective," she said, bringing her coffee mug to her lips. "I need to see that things can go back to normal, that I'm still good at the job." She doubted herself so much, and she was so used to stumbling over her own feet. Castle often wondered how she could be so effective and confident while interrogating a suspect, but so unsure when she thought she was alone, unable to stop the tears from falling.

It had broken his heart so many times as he leaned his head just out of sight, listening to her breathless sobs, the sound of her hardware hitting the floor, and the rough scrape of her body sliding down the wall. Every single time it took everything for him to stay away, to leave her alone. He had made a compromise with himself, that he would be there, close enough to know that she was okay, but he would stay hidden, not wanting violate her privacy

"You are _amazing _at your job," Rick said. "So what's stopping you, Kate?"

She turned further into him, canting her body so that she could hug him properly. "I need you with me, Rick. I want to show you that things can be _better _than normal, that _I _can be better, for us."

Rick pulled her closer to him, resting his chin on the top of her head as she tucked her legs under her body. Her view now was of the opposite wall, covered in photos of her and her mother, pins and buttons, colorful streamers and birthday cards.

"You don't need to be anything more or better for me, Kate. You don't owe me anything, and I wouldn't accept it even if you did. Do you really have any idea how much I love you? How much I _believe _in you?" He asked, adding emotion and emphasis to every syllable. "Kate, I would do nothing but slow you down right now. What could I possibly do to be of help at the precinct now?"

"Be a consultant, Rick, just like the NYPD asked you to be." Her voice went up an insistent octave as she tried to convince him. "Just consult. You don't need a "writer" vest for that, and you don't need to get out of the cruiser for that. You have to trust me, and you have to have some kind of faith that you'll be able to "consult" at your full capacity before you know it. Probably before we all know it."

"It's weird to hear you talk about faith," he responded, picking those words first, finding them more important than the rest.

"Yeah, well. It's weird to have some," she said, lifting her head to look at his face.

"In what? What do you have faith in?" He asked, his finger tracing the curve of her cheek.

"In you." She said, after taking the pause she needed, and leaning into him as his hands reached under her shirt, splayed across her back. He felt her shiver against him, and they both knew that it wasn't from the chill.

"I love when you do that," he said, his mouth at her ear.

"Do what?" she asked.

He laughed, pulling her onto his lap. It was an awkward position, the two of them facing each other on a short, crooked bench attached to the wall. "I love when you _feel _me," he said. "How your body responds when I touch you. I love that."

She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply and completely, their tongues exploring each other's mouths. They tugged each other closer until they pulled their mouths apart to catch their breath. He could hear her pant against his ear, puffs of warm breath coating his skin.

"I'm really glad you came here with me," Kate said, her fingers caressing the back of his neck.

Castle pulled her head gently down to his shoulder before turning towards her ear. "We are amazing together, Kate," he whispered. "This is so good. We are so good at this."

They spent hours in the tree house, navigating through comfortable silences and laughter filled memories. They talked about themselves, both individually and in this relationship. They talked about the Precinct, the boys, Alexis. They talked about cancer. Kate hated that his health seemed like a tradeoff for her love, and she hated that there was nothing she could do.

They dozed off together as the sun rose to the perfect position in the sky, shooting warm rays of light over them and throughout the tree house. Kate woke with a start, confused at first about what she was doing in her childhood play house, but quickly feeling Rick's arms at rest across her waist. She looked at her father's watch. It was a men's timepiece, and it looked huge wrapped around her tiny wrist, but she wore it well. She wore it like it was a part of her, and she was always relieved to see it still ticking.

Kate was surprised to see how late it was, and wondered how they managed to get any actual sleep in the glorified wooden box. They planned to leave the cabin today in order to have a night at home before real life started up again. She looked at Rick's face, still feeling relief and minor shock that he had been able to drift off in her childhood tree house. With the end of this brief retreat would come more chemotherapy for Castle. He would have just over a day before he would walk down those corridors again, sacrificing his body for hours of treatment. He had learned that preparing was ineffective. There was no way to prepare for that. Kate knew that he continued to think about what Dr. Stanley said, about the possibility of a second or even a third round of six treatments, scared of how much of his physical and mental health would continue to be effective.

He had read page after page of side effects, despite Kate's insistence that it wasn't doing him any good, and that it would only plant obsessions in his head. She was right, completely, but it was just one small thing that he felt like he had control over. Even if it was just a string of letters and the enter key, the words on the page. They were all he had.

Rick's hair had started to feel brittle and dry, and he was finding more and more dark strands in his brush and on his pillow. He had wanted to dodge this one, and perhaps it was superficial of him, but the idea of losing his hair was among the scariest of the potential side effects he had been reading about. It was like wearing a sandwich board that said "I HAVE CANCER" written on it. He had spent long moments looking at his head closely, examining his hair while arguing with himself about whether he was losing it or not.

He wasn't a "hat guy", and he was sure that he wouldn't pull of the Mr. Clean bald look either. It was happening, and he knew it, but he had no idea how he was going to work through it.

Kate didn't want to wake him, but she knew they had to go. In addition to his doctor's appointment, she would be meeting with Captain Gates, and she still had to figure out what her course of action would be.

She shook him gently, moving her mouth to his ear, and whispering gently for him to wake up. He was sluggish and slow to get moving, but he was awake, and he responded when she kissed him quickly on the lips.

"Ready to go?" she asked, her mouth pulled down into an exaggerated frown. He shook his head before replying "no". It was the simplest, most truthful answer, even though he knew that it was time. He stretched loudly, extending his entire body from head to toe. He shook his arms and his head as he completed his loud, absurd stretches, making Kate laugh as she watched him.

When he finally relaxed into the bench, he pulled her into a tight hug. "We should definitely come back here," he said, and he felt her as she nodded her head. "Let's go," she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the ladder. Once they made their way down, they walked side by side to the cabin. They threw their belongings haphazardly into the overnight bag, both amused by how little they needed what they brought. They both turned around to look one last time at the cabin as they got into the car. The small, charming house had helped save her when he couldn't, but it had kept her alone, isolated. Now it was their place, unofficially or not. She had shared it with him, told him about how hard she had worked here to get better, and had lifted his insecurities by finally explaining one of his most difficult memories. It was his, and theirs, because she allowed it to be.

They didn't talk much on the trip home. It was a comfortable silence bulleted by occasional moments of small talk, work talk, and talk about their trip, and their friends. The quiet moments provided opportunities for thought, and then for affection, hands covering thighs before joining together in between them, their hands resting on the center console.

When they arrived back into the city, Kate drove straight to Rick's loft. Neither had mentioned it or asked, because the ultimate destination was always assumed to be where they would _both _end up, together. When she really thought about it, counting days on the calendar she visualized in her head, she realized that she had barely spent a day in her apartment since every single shoe dropped, raining in their laps weeks ago. She went back a few times a week to pick up clothes or to collect her mail, but they always seemed to wind up back at his place, and she liked it. They had gotten to a point in their relationship rather quickly where sleeping together was more desirable, safer than sleeping apart. Even when they tried, one of the broke first, throwing in the towel and calling, all but begging the other to reconsider and allow them to share a bed, curling into one another, relieved.

It was almost always Castle who gave in first, and he was both adorable and convincing when he talked about holding her, about recognizing the warmth that her body gave off, and practically bargaining with her until she gave him permission to race to her apartment

There wasn't a noise to be heard once he closed the door and locked the deadbolt behind them. He stopped and looked down at his hands, stretching his fingers, curling them like a fist before releasing them. Kate looked concerned, and grabbed his hands in her own, flattening them between hers, warming him with the body heat escaping from her extremities.

"You okay?" she asked, looking up at him before moving her top hand to run it in a line down his jaw.

"Yeah," he said. "Joints are bothering me," he said as he leaned in to kiss her on the mouth. It was another side effect he had read about on several different websites, despite how diligent he was about not giving credence to sources that weren't peer reviewed or at least backed by some kind of authority.

He could feel the pain in his ankles all the way up and out his fingertips, and tried to remember when exactly he started feeling it. He knew that Dr. Stanley would want to know about the specifics, but the closest Castle could get was a general memory of his fingers starting to feel sore as they packed up to leave the cabin.

Kate walked into the kitchen, opening a cabinet and pulling a bottle of Ibuprofen out before taking a glass from the strainer. "Do you want your sleeping pill?" she asked. He nodded his head as she poured him a glass of water, and reached her palm out to him. He grabbed the little brown pills and water from her, smiling gratefully before popping the pills into his mouth and drinking them down.

They moved together into his bedroom, where Kate playfully pushed him down onto the bed. Her hands moved down the front of his body, landing on his chest for a moment before she lightly dragged her nails down to his belt, hearing him gasp as her fingers moved so close to and they both looked down as she reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it free from his pants.

He wanted her so badly, always did, but could never be sure of when his body would work with him, when he would be able to depend on it to make her feel the way she made him.

Kate leaned into the space between his legs, then slowly moved even closer to him, her forehead resting against his. Without looking down and breaking their eye contact, she pulled his belt buckle loose, pulling the strap of leather out of his pants and dropping it to the floor.

As she reached for the button and the zipper on his jeans, he wrapped his arms underneath hers, snaking them up to her shoulders, his fingers grasping her skin as he pulled her closer. When a shot of sharp pain came through his hands before spreading out his fingertips, he released his fingers, lightening the pressure of his touch. She moved her body downward, taking his face in her hands and passionately kissing him, and the intensity of it felt as strong as laying claim over each other's skin.

When she moved backwards a bit, she laughed to hear the whining sound that came out of him at their separation. They remained close, held together by the mingling of their sighs, listening as they both breathed heavily. "Mmm," she mumbled, taking her bottom lip into her mouth. "You okay?" she asked.

He nodded his head enthusiastically at her, simply because even if _he _didn't feel great, even if he never felt great again, _they _felt amazing. It was enough to carve a plant a smile on his face as he reached for her shirt, grateful that she was wearing a soft cotton t-shirt rather than a button-down. He slid his fingers inside and covered the skin of her side and back with the warmth of his splayed hands before reaching around to her back to flick open the clasp of her bra.

Rick stood up into the small space she had left him, occupied by her legs, and slipped her shirt up and over her head. He pulled her bra forward and off her shoulders, exposing her to him before he covered the sides of her face with his palms. They kissed frantically, exposing more and more skin as their hands moved together. They were clumsy, and laughed with each other as they tried to avoid toppling over, or missing with a messy kiss. They laughed at the bumps they received while trying to maneuver in the space, but they maintained their connection, holding each other tightly as their tongues explored one another's mouths.

They made love slowly, holding and guiding each other through. When he gently lowered her down to the bed, his body followed as his legs settled in between hers. They caressed one another, touching with warm tips of fingers, and staring into each other's eyes as they settled into one another, skin slick and breaths deep.

As Rick started to feel the tension mount in his belly, he fit his face into the crook of her neck, trying to concentrate on maintaining their rhythm without losing it. His head felt heavy, and he nearly resisted when he felt her hands on his cheeks, pulling his face up to look at hers, her eyes dark with arousal.

"It's okay," she said, her voice breathy and soft. "I'm right there with you," she promised, kissing him and breaking through the line of his teeth with her tongue, meeting his as they wrapped around one another.

"I love you," Kate said, "so much. I am so in love with you. For so long," she mumbled as their lips touched lightly. "For so long," she said again.

Rick pulled her tightly to him, groaning as his body tightened, building toward his impending release. He felt her tighten around him as her fingers dug into his back and she nearly thrashed her head from side to side, animalistic and primal.

The passion filled look on her face was enough to throw him over the threshold, and he clenched his fists at either side of her head, holding himself up to watch her. Her fingers moved to his cheeks again before dropping to his jaw and fighting to keep her gaze on him.

When Kate finally climaxed, the timing was perfect, and Rick thanked the heavens above that he had been able to hold out for her, watching the expression on her face before losing it himself, spilling into her.

Exhausted, they stayed wrapped in each other's arms as their breath settled and the bright spots in their vision went away. Softly touching her face, he moved his mouth towards hers, covering her lips again. Passion seeped from them, in between them, and he could swear as she kissed him that he felt and heard a sob bouncing in her throat.

They didn't get to do this nearly enough, as Rick's fatigue and chronic pain kept him from having the energy to keep up, or to even get started sometimes. It continued to humiliate him, to make him feel so inadequate. He had read all about _that _side effect, too, the words "lowered libido" and "difficulty achieving arousal" flashing in front of his eyes as if they had jumped off the page.

Kate never once made him feel like any less of a lover, and in reality, she was frustrated right along with him. Rick never stopped making sure that her needs were taken care of, sexual and otherwise. He always kept her coming as he supported her boneless body, nearly collapsed in his arms. He whispered sweet, and sometimes sexy words into her ears, stopping to bite her there or to move down to kiss her shoulder.

Kate still aroused him. Always had, and he knew she always would. He thought of her, genuinely, as the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. There was her amazing, fit body, her golden brown hair, her tiny but strong hands, but there were also the smiles that he knew were just for him.

So yes, she still aroused him. It seemed to take longer, and often lead nowhere, but she never kissed him any differently, never stopped touching him.

Some nights, however, as the blood pumped in their ears, sounding like a locomotive, everything fit together like a puzzle. It was during those times when they never took their eyes off one another, couldn't look deep enough into each other, as they held onto an unshakable faith that they knew that they would be okay. They already were, strengthened by four years worth of fires, gunshots, grief, betrayal, missed opportunities, but more than anything, love.

As they made love on this night, it felt to Rick like mapping sacred territory. It's what she always felt like. He hadn't expected an amazing union for them that night. He hadn't expected it, because he had learned that expectations lead to heartbreak. Regardless, though, it had been amazing. Something he could do every day. All day, even. He would get there. He had to believe in it. When she quickly falls asleep while resting against him, he touched her arms and waist gently, hypnotically until he was able to finally nod off himself. He did it several times during the night, never seeming to be able to break into REM sleep, never _really _feeling rested.

Rick got up with Kate, watching her as she nervously searched for an outfit among the closet's worth that she brought with her as her wardrobe started to make its way to the loft. He wished he could go with her while she spoke to Gates, but Kate thought it was best if she just took care of it herself. She still wasn't certain what she was even going to say to the Captain. She didn't know what Gates would accept _or _expect. She wondered if she really was ready to leave Rick during the work day, and during the on-call hours. She just _didn't know_.

As if he could sense her uncertainty, he stood up and grabbed her from behind, across her waist. "You're thinkin' too hard," he said.

Kate turned around in his arms. "Tell me what to do," she said, sounding both desperate and uncertain. He loved that she relied on him, that she trusted him enough to be vulnerable and to ask for his help.

"Do what you do best, Kate," he began, while tightening his grip across the small of her back, circling gently with his thumbs. It was a soothing touch, and she closed her eyes as she leaned into it.

"You have chemo tomorrow," Kate stated, as if he didn't already know. "What if I can't be there? What if we're stuck on a case and you need me? This is bigger than just me being a cop," she said. Her change in perspective, in what was important had shifted so much. Castle had bypassed every other priority in her life. She just had no idea how to be a detective while also loving someone, while being _in _love. She had never felt the strength of these feelings before, so she had nothing to compare them to.

Kate smiled as he kissed her forehead, then moved to pepper the rest of her face with sweet, reassuring touches of his lips. As she canted her body towards his, they were interrupted by the notification tone of Kate's phone.

Despite the fact that she didn't think she would be on call today, seeing that the text was from Espo initially made her expect to receive the details on a body drop. She expected a brief take on the situation, and a location that had become the scene of the crime. Instead, however, the message had nothing to do with a murder or an investigation.

She smiled while reading her phone, catching Castle's confused stare out of the corner of her eyes. "Everything okay?" he asked.

Kate shook her head, reading the text again before handing the phone to Castle. She saw the smile spread to Rick's face, too as he read the message:

"_Hey Becks. Heard you're coming in to see Gates this morning. Ryan and I should be here all a.m. Come find us so we can catch up. Bring Castle too, Ry can't stop crying without him. Be safe, see you soon."_

Castle looked up at her, her heart squeezing as he asked "Can I?"

"I don't know, Rick. _Can you_?" Kate joked. "Hurry up and get dressed," she said, kissing him quickly before pushing him towards his closet. He dressed quickly, moving back and forth through his room, passing Kate over and over as they got ready simultaneously. They hadn't yet experienced the domestic habits that came with working together, as this would be the first time they would walk in the precinct side by side. They were partners, but there was an entirely different facet to that description now.

"I'll go make some coffee," Rick said as he tucked in his navy blue dress shirt. It was such a great color on him, complementing his body even though it was clear that he had lost some weight over the last few weeks. She kissed him again, smoothing her hands over the front of his shirt before pushing him out of the bedroom.

As Rick put the coffee on, he smiled to see Martha wearing a loud and colorful shirt. She had told him many times as he poked fun of her fashion that she was wearing _vintage Versace_, as if that made up for the garish, but oh so 'Martha' print.

She made her way over to him slowly, a sly smile on her face. As she kissed his cheek, he pulled back to look at her closely. "What did you do?" he asked.

"Well, darling," Martha began, weaving her arm through the strap of one of her many designer clutches, "A friend of mine was able to procure some… medication… for you to try. I left it in the top drawer of your desk."

Rick narrowed his eyes at his mother, curious but certain that she wasn't telling the whole story. "Seriously?" he asked, raising his voice before lowering it again, not wanting to alert Kate to the madness that his mother was springing on him. "What did you do, Mother?" he asked again, his jaw locked tightly so he seethed through his teeth.

He followed her as she quickly made her way to the door, turning back as she walked to blow her son a kiss goodbye, something she never did. It was weird, but so was his mother. And genetically, so was he. "Oh, I'm running late, sweetheart. Long day, don't wait up! Bye kiddo!" She had spoken so fast in her quest to get out that Rick could barely even understand her poorly strung together excuses.

Shaking his head, Rick immediately turned and walked into his office, fairly certain as to what he would find, and in disbelief that she had actually _done _this. It shouldn't have surprised him, that much he was sure of. She was a teenager trapped in the body of a grandmother, and her choices were not always made with the smartest of motivators.

When he opened his desk drawer, scanning the space, searching for something out of place, he spotted it on the second pass of his eyes. It was a shiny, yellow piece of paper, balled up to the size of a tennis ball. He hesitated before reaching for it, realizing once it was in his hands that the yellow paper was the cover of a Playbill for a performance of "Anything Goes" that she had been in last year. The title was fitting for the situation, and for what he was certain was wrapped in that ridiculous bundle of paper.

Kate made her way to the kitchen, pouring herself a mug of coffee, then following the noise she heard in Rick's office. As she walked towards the door, she heard him before she saw him, as he called out to her, shouting "You are never going to believe what my mother did."

"Oh, I'm sure I'll believe it," she said, sipping her coffee again before bending down to kiss him as she walked around to him at his desk. "Not much Martha Rodgers does surprises me, Rick," she added as he pulled her down to sit in his lap.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, following his line of sight to the yellow ball of paper sitting on his desk. "Are you waiting for it to move, Rick? Is this a new "pet rock" type of thing?" she asked.

"It's pot." He said, reaching toward the bundle and opening it, revealing several small, green buds that released a sweet, pungent odor.

"She asked Dr. Stanley about it after my first chemo, but I thought she was joking. I thought she was just being ridiculous," Rick said, exasperated.

"Well, what did Dr. Stanley say?"

"He said he had recommended it to patients before, and had known of people who had been successful with it."

"Do you think it will help?" she asked.

Rick shrugged at her. "I'm not really sure. I hadn't really thought about."

"I think you should consider it, Rick. At least think about it," she said without hesitation.

"Kate, but you're a _cop_," he said, shocked.

"Yes, I'm a cop, and I've walked the beat before, but I'm a homicide detective now. I don't have time to be concerned with every grown man scoring some bud from his mother slash dealer," she said, smiling, poking fun at him.

"But it's illegal," he said, pushing her further.

"I'm aware of that. It's not like I'm going to pilfer through the evidence room to get my hands on some chronic for you. You seem to have your connections all taken care of."

"So you aren't mad?"

She bent down to him, looking him in the eye. "No, I'm not mad. If there is anything that could possibly make this more comfortable for you, by all means do it, Rick. If it works, it's worth it. If not, well, you'll have tried and you'll know, and then I'll arrest you."

"When did you get to be so sensible?"

"I think it was when my friends and I started smoking absurd amounts of weed during the summer after high school. Good summer."

Castle looked at the pot sitting on top of his desk. He was uncertain and absolutely surprised at Kate's ambivalence.

"I'll think about it," he said finally, his hands moving under the hem of her dress shirt."

Kate nodded her head, putting her feet on the floor again. "Let's go, Castle," she said, reaching for his hand. After they had closed the door to the loft behind them, Castle saw a smirk on her face as he locked the deadbolt.

Before they walked to the elevator, Kate reached for his face and pulled him in for a long, slow kiss. It took both of their breaths away, as it always did.

Once they were on the way down to the lobby, they both leaned against the walls, catching their breath and gazing at one another

"If you think it will help," Kate began, "then I think you should do it. Get baked," she added with a poorly disguised chuckle. She was _definitely _going to have some fun with this one.

**Thank you again for reading, following, and adding to your favorites. I hope that this chapter makes up for the amount of time it had taken me to finish it. I definitely plan on having chapter 10 published in a more timely manner… Reviews are magic. **


	10. Chapter 10

**Patient -Chapter 10**

**Summary: **Kate and Rick visit the precinct as Kate meets with Gates, Rick deals with a symptom of his cancer, Rick and Kate try a new option for Rick's symptoms… Everything from laughter to angst. Enjoy.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own or claim ownership of any creative property of ABC, Andrew Marlowe, Disney, Castle and related entities. Any use of copyrighted elements is for private use and not for personal or financial gain.

**Author's Note: **I want to first say a profound thank you to everyone who has reviewed, followed this story or added it to your favorites. And for those of you who have messaged me, expressing your support and interest in this story, I am so grateful. I know my time between updates can be long, but please know that I am writing that entire time, putting at least something into this story every single day. For those of you who do not know, I also write hundreds of OTHER pages every week for various professional, personal and freelance projects, so getting a chapter out every few days or week is just not possible. Instead, I try to offer substantial updates, and I hope that makes up for it… I promise that I will stay with this story, and as long as you stick by me, stay interested, and keep reading, I will see it through. Thank you again.

In this chapter, without spoiling it, I will say that you will find your fair share of humor, angst, and everything in between. Some of the character behaviors you may love, and some of you may not love them so much… I hope you love them.

* * *

Rick was practically bouncing in his seat as Kate drove them to the precinct. He hadn't seen the inside of the 12th in weeks, and it felt like something very significant had been missing from his life. He had to shake himself back to reality when he thought of following Kate and Esposito, guns drawn, into a dark, dangerous location, the word "writer" popping off his custom made vest like a hologram. He thought about the rush that came with knowing that they had _got_ the bad guy, or the heart-racing feeling of _just barely _making it out of a situation alive. He thought about the urgency and intensity that came with the words "body drop!" being announced loudly throughout the bullpen, and the adrenaline that shot through his veins as they moved with a speed that denoted a weighty seriousness.

And then he remembered. He wouldn't see a case like that for a long time. Even _he _knew that it wasn't safe, that he couldn't keep up, that he _would_ be a liability.

"Are you okay?" Kate asked as the excited, rhythmic tap he had been playing on the window glass turned into a more aggressive light pounding of his closed fist on the inside door handle. His face had tightened as well, his eyes squinted and his jaw clenched as he turned away from her.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he lied.

"You're upset because you have to walk out of the bullpen in a bit, aren't you? That you can't stay and work, right?"

He nodded, rubbing his hands down his face.

"That place _changed_ me," he began, glancing in her direction as she drove. "It took my life, which I already thought was pretty damn good, mind you, and it changed _everything _for me. It changed my priorities, and it taught me how to be a friend, a partner. It's made me a better father," he continued.

"It's where I fell in love," he said softly, pausing to quickly glance at her. Her smile was soft and sweet. A response to his words like they were the most natural thing in the world, and of course, for them, 'natural' is what they had become. Some people allowed their relationships to grow over fancy dinners and expensive drinks in loud bars, others fell in love with acquaintances they had known for a day, worlds colliding at the right place at the right time, while others still spent years building a history together. For Castle and Beckett, so many of their most precious and private memories took place in the dark, dank and loud cage of the 12th Precinct.

Going back there, only to walk back out again, without her and without a choice was going to be impossibly difficult.

"_God, he says the most perfect things_", she thought, his words about falling in love reverberating in her ear, making her stomach muscles clench almost as if he had caressed her there. The way he looked at her, practically into her soul when he _really _wanted to send her a message, wanted her to _get _the gravity of what he was saying, combined with the electric quality his words took on left her struggling to catch her breath.

"It's going to be hard for me too," Kate said, finally. "I don't want to _not _work with you. I don't want to miss you while I'm there and you're at home. I want to take care of you."

He reached across the car to slide his fingers into her hair, tucking a loose lock behind her ear. "I want to take care of you," he said quietly, almost a whisper. His words had a sad tenor as he wondered when he could truly make that happen for her, when he would feel healthy and strong as he made the life of the woman he loved easier, safer, and without worry.

Kate smiled at the shadow his touch had left behind, the warmth she could still feel. He had no idea how much he did for her, how he kept her head above water. "I guess we'll have to settle for taking care of each other," Kate said, her heart pounding at the grin she saw out of the corner of her eyes as it sprung from his lips.

"I love you," he said as he squeezed her thigh, still thrilled that he could touch her, that he could comfort her while accepting it from her just as readily. Of all the things they had to fear, finally, expressing the depth of their feelings for each other was not one of them. The fact that he could tell her he loved her was on a whole different plane, along with every other thing he never thought he would be able to do in this life.

"I love you, Castle," she said in return, honesty and real happiness leaking from her words. And there was that too, the way his heart fluttered when she said it back, when she said that _she loved him_. He had wanted for so long just to make her happy, to let her know that she would never be alone again if he had anything to say about it. He wouldn't let her. He took so many of her fears away, despite the uncertainty that faced them both.

* * *

As they pulled into the precinct, Castle turned to Kate. He had held his tongue the entire drive over, not wanting to add any pressure to her decision, but she was running out of time with which to make one. "Kate, what are you going to say to Gates?" he asked, as gently as possible. "I know it's a stressful situation, but we can see the doors from here. We'll be walking in within a few minutes and-".

"Castle!" she said, her voice abrasive and short as she gripped the steering wheel tightly under her whitening knuckles. _"Shit," _she thought to herself. He was just trying to help, and she had been louder, more sharp and aggressive than she had intended. She could see that he was hurt, his eyes no longer meeting hers, no longer shining as his head hung low and he kept his mouth closed. When she put the car in park, she unbuckled her seat belt and turned to him, reaching for his chin and turning his face towards hers.

"Rick, I'm sorry. Really," Kate professed, with genuine remorse behind her words. "It's just… I don't even _know _what I'm going to say. I have no clue what the right thing is, Castle! What should I do?" she asked him, biting her lip nervously as she looked towards him, still gripping the wheel.

"Kate, you know I can't answer that for you. It wouldn't be fair," he said, sighing, closing his eyes before he spoke again. "Kate, I would love more than anything to tell you to leave when I have to leave, to come home with me. I would love it if you just stayed by my side until we could walk back in together, but even just saying all that out loud feels selfish. I could never ask you to do anything more or less than what is going to leave _you _feeling fulfilled. No matter what, Kate, I'll be waiting, no matter what decision you make. I can't make it for you though, sweetheart," he lamented, punctuating the rare term of endearment by gently bringing his hand to her cheek, allowing her to lean into it, resting in his palm.

She sighed as their eyes reconnected, their smiles containing as much sadness as anything else, as life, love, optimism. "I don't know what I'm going to do," she said once again, afraid of her honestly as much as she feared all of the unknowns. "It's been a long time since I've felt so lost, Rick, and there are only two things in this world that make me feel… found. It's you, and it's here," she said, gesturing toward the building that had swallowed up her grief, giving purpose to her life. That building housed her career, her success, her reputation. It was also the place where the seeds of their relationship had been planted, cared for, slowly blossoming and blooming over the years until she could echo Rick's words exactly, certain that the 12th was where she had fallen in love, too.

Reaching for her face, bringing their foreheads together, he held her tightly as he looked into the green pools of her eyes. "Kate, you can have both. I'll never ask you to choose, and I'll always be waiting for you when you make it home to me."

She covered his hands with her own as she angled her mouth towards his, kissing him possessively, her tongue sliding into his mouth and curling with his, slow but intense. When they pulled apart breathlessly, she laughed softly as she placed a sweet, chaste kiss on his cheek before moving away, her hand on the door handle.

"You ready for this?" she asked, smiling as he nodded at her.

"I've got your back," he pledged as he opened his door and stepped out, waiting for her to reach his side before they walked together, hands brushing against one another, toward the front doors of the precinct.

* * *

As the elevator doors slid open, Castle nearly lost his breath as the familiar sight of the bustling 4th floor bullpen came into view. The sheer number of people moving about, the sound of papers shuffling and printers whirring all spelled out a typical morning at the precinct.

It was a relatively dark place with terribly harsh lighting. It was loud with the voices of dozens of police officers, mostly detectives with sharp New York accents, mostly men swearing like sailors as puzzle pieces came together in every corner of the large, but broken up space. The furniture looked like it had been pulled from a public school condemned in the Seventies, or picked up from a Craigslist "curb alert" advertisement. The brick structure and the faulty oil burner and thermostat made sure that it was freezing in the winter and sweltering during the summer months.

For all its faults, Castle loved everything about the place. It was as if his imagination, his stories, his characters all came to life in front of his eyes every day, allowing him to play in _their _stories, their narratives unfolding before him.

There was a familiar smell that wafted towards him as he was about to step out and onto the floor. It was a combination of coffee and pastries, cheap cologne, printer ink and toner, and dry erase markers. It smelled like home.

As he shuffled forward to exit the elevator, Kate grabbed his jacket from behind, pulling him back and holding him in place. He turned around to look at her face, then down to her loose hand, her fingers occupied as she pressed the "door close" button repeatedly. As the doors slid shut again, she reached for his face, pulling him down to her, practically swallowing his mouth with hers. Their tongues coasted over each other, sloppy and fast. As Rick let out a moan that echoed in his throat, she pulled away, his lapels in her hands as they caught their breath again, wiping away the shiny wetness their careless kissing had left around their mouths. After taking a few seconds to collect themselves, Kate pushed the "door open" button, biting her lip as she felt his fingers smooth over her hair. She swatted his hand away as the bullpen appeared to them once more.

As he stepped out of the elevator, Castle extended his hand, signaling for her to follow him. "Ladies first," he said with a smile. "Wow, Castle. I'm surprised you didn't try to shove me out of the way," she joked, walking past him and towards her team's workspace, towards her desk. "You would think we just arrived at Disney World," she mused as she looked back at him, a wide smile decorating her already flawless features.

He followed her like he always did, like today was just any normal day. He tried incredibly hard to pretend that it was. When he saw Kevin and Esposito, though, their backs to them as they looked over a file together, he nearly burst into tears.

At the familiar tap of Kate's heels, the boys quickly turned around. As both men swiftly moved towards Castle, Kevin reached him first before being playfully shoved aside by Javier, who greeted Castle with a tight hug. Kate smiled at the scene, her arms crossed over her chest. She shook her head as she watched Espo slap his hands against Castle's back, presumably to protect his masculine image with a "man hug".

Kevin rocked back and forth, from heel to heel as he waited his turn, practically jumping into Rick's arms, apparently not caring so much about how tough and manly he looked. When he pulled back, Castle's shoulders in his hands, he shook him, ecstatic and disbelieving. "How are you, Castle?" he asked enthusiastically. "It's great to see you! You have no idea how quiet it is around here without you."

"Yeah, well, it's probably somewhere close to how quiet it is in my head without you guys," Castle said, smiling as he leaned against the desk behind him.

Behind them, a familiar voice rang across the room, sassy and oddly comforting. "Well, I guess congratulations are in order," Lanie said as she walked towards them, standing in front of Ryan and Espo. She reached her open arms first towards Kate. "Girl, I'm going to kill you for the lack of details I've been privy to lately," she said, her face leaning towards Kate's ear while still speaking at a volume that all of them could hear. "We'll talk," Kate said at a lower volume as Lanie pulled away. "Oh, you know we will, girl," the M.E. retorted with a wink and a smile before turning towards Castle.

"And _you_!" she squealed as she hugged Castle tightly, shrieking as he lifted her off the ground and spun her in a half circle. "_Put me down now, Richard Castle or I will cut you!" _she screamed, the sound mingling with the laughter leaving the throats and mouths of their friends.

When Rick finally set her feet back on the ground, Lanie playfully smacked his chest before shaking her head, her mouth widening into a genuine smile. "It's good to see you, Castle," she said, unable to ignore the sharp jut of his clavicle as he put her down. He had slimmed down significantly, his broad shoulders and full hips having transformed, revealing the physical changes attributed to his illness to the M.E. for the first time.

"Likewise, Dr. Parish. Really good to see all of you," Castle said as he looked around to the faces of his friends, his closest confidants. "You are all partners," he announced. "All of you." His voice was nostalgic, but the truth was that he would put his life on the line for any of them, and was sure that they would do the same.

As Kate moved around the desk to where Castle was sitting, she took the spot next to him, close enough so that the sides of their bodies were touching. He turned his head toward her, smiling as she covered his hand with hers as it sat on his thigh. Neither of them noticed how quiet the room around them had become until they heard Lanie clear her throat. In identical startled responses, in sync as always, they simultaneously whipped their heads back to their team, all of whom were nursing varying smiles and laughs, interspersed with moments of complete and utter shock. Ryan and Espo had known for weeks after having seen the two sharing what they thought was a clandestine kiss, but watching them now, as they no longer tried to hide, it was a whole different revelation.

"Do we need to give you two some privacy?" asked Lanie, her hands on her hips as her coy smile made Kate turn away in embarrassment.

"Sorry guys," Kate apologized, her cheeks red, her eyes averted.

"No need to be sorry," Esposito gloated with a sardonic tone to his voice. He was absolutely _loving _this, and was having a hard time holding back his laughter as he watched Castle and Beckett squirm, then slide apart, creating even more space between them.

"Actually, you _should_ be sorry," chastised Lanie. "Spill it. What is this?" she asked, her head flitting back and forth between an amused Rick and a mortified Kate.

"Um, can we be a little more discreet?" Kate asked, her voice low, just above a whisper.

"I should ask the same thing of you, Beckett, seeing as you looked like you were about to start tongue wrestling about thirty seconds ago," Lanie countered.

"Oh, you should have seen us in the elevator," Rick joked, his words leaving his mouth before he could reel them in. He winced as Kate's hand came down hard on his knee. He should have expected that.

Kate rubbed her eyes with her thumb and pointer finger as she tried to push the tension aside. As their team surrounded them, Kate looked at Castle, silently asking if now was the time. Was it time to stop the charade? They _were _that serious, weren't they? Castle shrugged at her, as if to say _"if you're ready, I'm ready."_

Of course, they both knew that their relationship was no longer a secret, exactly. It hadn't been for weeks, at least. Gates knew, and the team knew. They had been figured out weeks ago by Ryan and Esposito, but none of them _truly_ knew the extent of Castle and Beckett's "situation". Their theories ranged from booty calls to friends-with-benefits, but not one of them imagined that their relationship was so much more than those half-cocked theories.

"Kate and I are a couple," Castle said, taking the lead and breaking the silence. "We are in a relationship," he said, looking back at Kate. He wasn't sure how much further he should go, how _much _of the truth he should tell. Her head was turned into her chest, her eyes on his and her heart pounding as she closed her eyes and nodded, almost imperceptibly.

"We're in love with one another," Rick blurted, watching the three sets of eyes widen at his revelation. He had felt Kate stiffen as he exposed so much of them so quickly, and even though she had given him the "okay", he wished immediately that he could take it back, choosing instead to describe their relationship in more ambiguous way.

He cocked his head as he gave her a close-lipped smile, trying to transmit an apology without having to say it out loud. His heart began to pound in his chest as she smiled back, grabbing his hand as it rested on the desk in between them.

"Yeah, guys," Kate began, her voice confident and casual. "Castle and I are together. There is no point to keeping it a secret, especially since you all seem to already know anyway," she said as she glared at her co-workers and friends.

Silence again. Kate hated awkwardness with just one person, but the weighty quiet surrounding them all was far worse. She couldn't remember the last time the five of them had been together without _something _inspiring fast paced banter or conversation. Whether it pertained to a case or take-out orders, jokes or was of a more personal nature, someone _always _had something to say.

"Okay, guys," said Kate after several continued moments of excruciating, stagnant quiet. "I know that one of you must have something to say," she said, her hands on her hips, waiting.

"No, I mean… It's just… wow," sputtered Ryan, converting his shock into the smallest semblance of a statement.

"Yeah. _'Wow'_" said Espo, mimicking his partner. "You can do better than that, bro. We've been talking about it forever," he said as he turned from Ryan back to Beckett and Castle. "I guess the most appropriate thing I can think of is that it's about damn time."

Finally finding his words, Ryan smiled at the couple, his hands folded across his chest. "This is huge, you guys," he said. "I'm really happy for you both." He nodded his head as he absorbed his own excitement.

Lanie shook her head at all of them, smiling at Kate and Castle, rolling her eyes at Javi and Ryan before they were all interrupted by the unmistakably deep timbre of Captain Gates' voice as she approached. Gates walked over to Castle first, extending her hand. "It's good to see you, Mr. Castle," she said with a nod before turning to Kate. "Shall we, Detective Beckett?" she asked as she extended her arm toward her office.

"Yes, Sir," Kate said, looking back at Castle as she followed the Captain, reassured by the smile he provided just before Gates' office door closed behind them.

"Holy shit," Castle exclaimed, opening and closing his hand into a fist. "I think Gates' broke my hand with that handshake," he said, his friends looking from Gates' closed door back to him, laughing at his trademark ability to lighten any situation.

* * *

Kate sat down in the chair across from Captain Gates' desk, wringing her hands and looking anywhere but at her superior until she was directly addressed.

"Good morning Detective. Nice to see you again," said Gates, as formal as was possible for such a greeting. "I see you brought Mr. Castle with you."

"Yes, Sir. Detectives Esposito and Ryan wanted to see him. Dr. Parish as well," Kate explained.

"It appears that Mr. Castle has made a bigger impact here at the 12th than I was perhaps aware of."

Kate nodded while trying to push the growing, closed mouth smile from her lips. "Yes, Sir," she confirmed again. "A lot of people here care very deeply for him." She was not just talking about herself, not by a long shot.

"Why?" the Captain asked, genuinely inquisitive as she leaned closer to Kate. By pulling her chair forward, she was only able to close the distance by mere inches, but her posture and curiosity was already enough out of character, and Kate wasn't really sure how to answer.

"_Why do people care so much about Castle?"_

She needed a moment with this one.

Finally, after chasing her thoughts around her head while piling reason after reason why Rick Castle was loved, and why _she _loved him, she had her answer.

"Sir, I know that Castle comes with a reputation, including recklessness at crime scenes, pushing his boundaries as a civilian consultant, and generally just acting like an idiot with an invisible Superman cape," Kate began, starting out on Gates' side of the argument before sharing the much harder part of it all, the part that made it all so real and so important.

"Castle is also the most loyal person I've ever met, Sir, and you can confirm that with the other detectives on my team. They'll tell you the same thing. He is honest and intelligent and insightful, and he has helped with my case closure percentage as much as anyone else, as much as I have. He can read people, picking up the little nuances that define a person. He can see truth, and fiction, clearer than anyone I've ever known." Kate quickly became winded as she spoke, her words having tumbled out of her mouth faster than she could think about them or slow them down. They were all the truth, though, and she could have gone on and on for hours about what kind of a man Richard Castle was, but she cut herself off. She knew that wasn't why she was sitting across from the Captain.

"In all my years of police work, I have never met a civilian consultant who has stuck around this long. They usually get the information they need and are on the way in a few days time," the Captain admitted. "But somehow, Mr. Castle has essentially become a part of the force without having to take part in a little detail known as the 'police academy'".

"Yes, Sir," Beckett said with a quiet chuckle. When Castle had first shown up on her turf with no training and what felt like little respect for her career, it had infuriated her. She felt like the work she had put into become a competitive detective was disregarded. Very quickly, though, she realized that Rick Castle could offer a perspective and a gift for profiling that she simply didn't possess. They had learned over the months and years that they were more effective together, as a team. She wasn't sure she could do it without him, and she knew that she didn't want to.

"So, Detective Beckett, how is Mr. Castle feeling these days?"

Kate paused, looking to the floor with her head tilted to the side. Without averting her gaze back at the Captain, she just spoke, nervous, wringing her hands together anxiously. "Sir, Castle is going to be dealing with his cancer for some time. None of us know how long, exactly, but he will continue to receive chemotherapy treatments until his tumors shrink. Or until they don't," she finished, shocked at the last few words that came out of her mouth. She hadn't allowed herself to think about the prospect of him _never _getting better, because it cut so deep and made her feel like her throat was closing up. The feeling was as close to panic as she knew.

The Captain's face had softened as she leaned back in her chair and listened, nodding occasionally. "And what does that mean for you, Detective?" She asked, still maintaining the uncharacteristic softness as she spoke.

Kate sighed. She hadn't _really _made a decision until she had walked into the precinct with him, until she watched him interact with their partners, their friends, their surrogate family.

"Sir," she began. "I want to believe that there will be a place for me here, and a place for Castle, once all of this is said and done. Until then, I can't give what needs to be given to this job. Of course, Castle and I aren't married, so I know I can't reasonably ask for any kind of leave," Kate said, lifting her head up to look at the Captain.

"Okay, Detective," she said "So where do we stand here? What _are _you asking for?"

"Well, I guess that's what I am asking for," Kate said, frustrated at the bottleneck of thoughts and words that were making her words ineffective.

"Your vagueness is making it difficult to work this out, Detective."

"I'm asking for some kind of leave. The kind of leave that I know doesn't apply to Castle and I, but I'm asking because it's all I've got. I want to know that there is a position for me here, and for him. Until I know that he is better, that he is well and on the road to being cancer free, though, I can't spend twelve hour days away from him. I can't be on call at two places at once, because right now, I'll always choose him."

Kate bit her thumbnail as she waited for Captain Gates to speak, occasionally glancing up at the woman, only to see her looking back through squinted eyes.

"Detective, why didn't you ask for this last week? You indicated then that you would be coming back after this past week off. You need to be sure about this," she said, rolling her chair back and opening a desk drawer, pulling a packet of paperwork out and placing it on her desk.

"Well, I'm not really sure what my options are, Sir. And to be fair, I also didn't know that this was the decision I was going to make. I didn't even know an hour ago, let alone last week. I can guarantee that I am sure of it, though."

Gates pushed the packet of papers across the desk, shaking them when Kate hesitated, her eyes looking up toward the Captain again before finally reaching for it. Kate's eyes shifted down to the front page, reading the words "Family Medical Leave Request" at the top. "Sir?" she inquired with a questioning tone, confused.

"Your father. He's of advanced age if I'm correct, right?" Captain Gates asked, her eyes drilling into Kate's.

Kate hesitated, briefly unsure of what the Captain was getting at before her eyes widened with the shock of realization. "Y-yes, Sir. He's in his eighties."

"And he could surely use your care on a more full-time basis, right? His health would likely benefit from that. Am I correct?"

Beckett nodded her head, unable to respond as she thought of the ethical risk being taken by her, but by the Captain more than anyone. Kate had been an officer with the NYPD for only a few weeks when she began to understand the meaning of the word "brotherhood" in the PD context. The word represented what could be considered a secret society, full of people who had seen the worst of humanity while struggling to maintain the promise emblazoned on the white and blue squad cars that canvassed the city.

"_to protect and serve."_

Her mind was all over the place, but she knew it was the only way. It was also the concession that shocked her the most. Leaving her job to be with a man went against everything she believed about feminine independence and integrity. This was so very different, though, and this was where she would take her stand. Besides, declaring a "family medical leave" wasn't such a stretch. He _was_ her family, and she felt a part of his.

She never could have imagined how her priorities would change, how he would change everything fundamental to her life, making his way into all of it while casting out every boogey man under every bed in her life, shutting every door safely behind them before coming back to her to keep her secure and protected.

No matter what, her decision was the same, and she had likely made it in the depths of her heart long before stepping into the Captain's office on this day. She couldn't imagine, through all of this, being away from him. Not now. The half-hearted days she had worked before she took her vacation days had drained her. Without him by her side, she wasn't invested in the work, and as selfish as she felt about such dependency in a relationship, the truth was that she wasn't just a cop anymore. She was part of a unit that worked in sync with one another, pushing and pulling to identify and maintain the perfect rhythm. She feared that stepping away from him would alter their dynamic, disrupting the mechanics of the perfect thing they had created. If they weren't together, springs would loosen and pins would fall to the ground. They could only hold it together with both their hands, and regardless of the moral issue being presented to her by Gates, what Kate deemed important in life had shifted. Now, it was all them, him and her.

Sometimes, as she had learned from her previous captain, her mentor, it was justifiable to bend certain rules to protect the public, and to protect each other. Captain Montgomery had showed her that, more than anything, if a lie achieved justice more efficiently than the truth, then it was defensible. _"Whether you are afraid of it or not," _he had said.

She had also learned from Montgomery, in the most painful of ways, that there were parts of the NYPD that were hidden in shadow. It was no secret that there was a push and pull, a manipulation of power that existed behind the badge. Much like the Gotham City depicted in thousands of issues of Batman comics, there were heroes and there were villains. Some used their powers for good, some for so much evil. It was a part of the NYPD, and of police forces at large. Everyone tasted a bit of the dark side at some point during their career. It was just a question of which direction they continued to go, either towards the light or further into the darkness. Everyone at some point had to make a choice between being a villain, and being a hero.

Looking down again at the papers that had become gripped in her hands, she nodded again as her eyes travelled up to meet the Captain's.

Gates bobbed her head quickly, signaling affirmation. "Take the time to fill that out, and I'll approve it and take it down to Human Resources myself. It's a bit of an exception, a touchy situation, but both you and Mr. Castle have people on your side. Most importantly, I'm sure your father will be quite relieved to have you with him at this time in his life. And off the record, Detective Beckett, I think it takes an immense amount of courage to make this decision, and I respect you for it very much."

Kate's jaw had dropped as she looked back and forth between her captain and the papers in her lap. She would have her job waiting for her, and so would Castle. It was the biggest relief she had felt in days, although it was coated in the guilt of dishonesty, but it was such a break for both her and Castle.

"Sir, I don't know what to say," Kate began, stumbling over herself as she tried to find the words to say 'thank you' to her Captain. Sometimes the woman was as hard as steel, but when it all came down to it, she had been there for her and Castle, and for her team when it counted.

"Sir," she said as Gates began to stand, and the Captain sat down once again, nodding for Beckett to continue. "Sir," she began again, "I just want it to be clear that I _am _a cop. I'm a damn good cop, and I want to be one for as long as I am so fortunate. I want to be back here, at the 12th, with my team. I just have to be with… my team first."

Gates nodded, her lips curving in the slightest of smiles as she stood again. "Understood, Detective. Thank you," she said as she led them both out of her office.

* * *

"So, how are you feeling, Castle?" Lanie asked, looking him once over before running her hand down the length of his arm.

Castle shrugged. "There are good days and bad days," he said. "Today is a good day, seeing you all and being here," he continued. "It feels therapeutic."

"This dump?" joked Esposito.

"Shut up, Javi," said Lanie, shaking her head.

"And _that_ is exactly why I love this place so much," Castle smiled as he crossed his ankles and leaned back, observing the pair as they bickered over the smallest things, their personalities clashing and connecting both in repulsion and attraction.

"What do the doctors say?" asked Kevin, effectively ignoring Lanie and Espo, true concern on his face.

Castle breathed heavily. He still was not used to talking about this with anyone but Kate. Standing here, in the middle of the 12th Precinct in Manhattan, among the people he had come to love, but had also come to consider true co-workers, the weakness he felt was overwhelming. He wanted to run. He didn't know how to make small talk about this.

"Um, they caught it pretty early," he said, trying to control the shake in his voice as he downplayed the situation. "Once the chemo is complete, I should be alright." His tone was dismissive and distracted. He didn't want to talk about this.

Kevin and Esposito nodded their heads, smiling in approval of Castle's prognosis, but Lanie could see right through him. As a doctor with years of medical training with the living before she became an M.E., she squinted at him, recognizing the surefire signs of fear and uncertainty in his face as he described only the bare minimum, leaving so many details out of his story.

They turned their heads as they heard the Captain's door open behind them, Gates following Kate out and into the bullpen. As they walked, Captain Gates looked at Kate, who nodded her head as she listened to the woman.

"Remember to finish that packet over the next few days, Detective, and then I'll make sure that H.R. takes care of the rest," she instructed softly before stopping, turning to shake Kate's hand. "Give my best to your father," she said, offering a tight smile as Kate lifted her head to look at her, a combination of gratitude, guilt, confusion and grief guiding her down a crooked emotional path.

Kate smiled when she saw Castle grinning back at her. When his eyes connected with hers, shiny blue orbs against her hazel-green ones, she felt something akin to the strongest relief she had ever felt. She was going to walk out of the precinct _with him_, and they were going to go home together.

As Gates and Beckett walked towards the tight group of four, Castle in the middle surrounded by the Detectives and Medical Examiner, they started to separate, afraid they had been caught away from their work. They expected to be chastised for having set their profile folders down and moved the evidence to the side in favor of more important things. Instead, Captain Gates moved directly to Castle, extending her strong hand to him again. "I look forward to seeing you back here in a working capacity, Mr. Castle," The Captain said, surprising Castle with her welcoming invitation and her slightly less aggressive handshake.

"Yes, Sir. I look forward to that too," He said, leaning back against the desk as the Captain walked back towards her office. As she opened her door, she turned on a heel one more time, her eyes back on the group of active detectives holding their spots among Castle and Beckett. "Detectives Esposito and Ryan, I would appreciate it if you would say your goodbyes and continue to work on this case," she commanded with an instantly more intimidating voice before entering her office, closing the door behind her.

Kate looped her arm through Castle's, pulling him close to her before placing her warm lips to his ear. "Let's get out of here," she said, stroking the side of his face as he moved his head to look at her face, a shocked look on his face. She would explain it all later, but not here.

"You guys should come by for dinner sometime soon," Kate said, still smiling at the disbelief coating her partner's faces.

"Do not forget that you owe me some serious girl talk," Lanie said, leaning in to give Kate a hug before moving to kiss Castle's flushed cheek.

Their parting was quick; much more so than the reunion had been, and Kevin's mouth hung wide open as he watched them both walk away.

"She said we should come to dinner _'sometime'_," Javi highlighted, his voice rising in volume as the characteristic signs of his anger began to show. "That doesn't sound to me like she's coming back any time soon, does it?" He yelled to no one, his closed fist landing hard on the desk next to where he sat.

"Hey, Javi! Cool it!" said Lanie as she grabbed his wrists, shaking him until his eyes met hers. "You are _not _going to do this, Javi! Not like this. Whatever is going on, we don't know the full story. We don't know what _just _happened between her and Gates."

"But she just!-", he began, sputtering as he pulled his arm from Lanie's, pointing toward the elevator before Kevin interrupted him.

"It's none of our business, Espo," said Kevin, his tone calm but serious.

"None of our… how could you _say_ that?" Javier shouted again, standing as he moved closer to Ryan, almost ready to fight.

"Espo, sit down!" said Lanie as she moved in between the two. "Better yet, take a walk. Take a _long _walk, and don't come back until you can act like a grown man!"

Detective Esposito stared at her through dark, glassy eyes, angry and resentful, with _so _much more to say. He wasn't used to walking away or not finishing a fight, but as he squared his jaw and cracked his neck, he shot one last glare from Kevin to Lanie before grabbing his bag and quickly moving towards the stairs, avoiding the slow wait at the elevator door.

* * *

As Kate and Rick rode the elevator down to the lobby at the precinct, her back rested against the wall as she reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down to her, hugging him tightly as their faces met, leaning against each other, connected.

"What happened in there, Kate?" Rick asked, running his hands across her shoulders and down her back.

She took his hand as the elevator arrived at the first floor, pulling him out the door and toward the Crown Vic. As they closed the car doors, Kate inhaled deeply before turning her head to look at Rick. He wore a look of uncertainty and anxiety as he waited for her to break whatever news she was holding so close to the chest.

"I'm not going back until you go back," she said, a smile finally breaking out on her face as she watched his eyes shine.

"What do you mean, Kate? What did Gates say?" Castle asked, still uncertain, her words not making sense to him.

Kate sighed. "After I saw you with the boys, with Lanie, watching how _excited _they were to see you, I realized that the way they feel is only a fraction of how important you are to me. I should have told Gates last week, but I don't think I realized that I really _can't _do this without you, Rick. I don't want to, and I don't want you to go through any of your treatment, or _any _of it without me."

"That's amazing!" he said, taking her cheeks in his hands and pulling her to him, their lips meeting and feeling like a reprieve. He kept his hold on her as he pulled back just slightly, anchoring their foreheads together. "You still haven't told me what Gates said, Kate," Rick reminded her again, still not understanding that part of the story.

Kate reached into her bag, pulling out the packet Gates had given her, wordlessly sliding it across her lap and into Rick's hands.

"Family Medical Leave Request"? he read off the top of the first facsimiled sheet. His eyes furrowed as he read the words to himself, his lips moving silently. As he made his way down the page, he suddenly lifted his head, looking at Kate with his head cocked to the side. "Wait, don't we have to be-,"

Kate nodded her head, interrupting his question. She knew what he was going to ask. "Yes, Rick, we do."

"Umm, but we aren't," said Rick as he looked back down at the packet.

"_The qualifying parties include spouses, parents, children, and any direct relative under the care of the applicant."_

He read the line over and over again, just as Kate had as Captain Gates casually broke NYPD policy, feeding the story into Beckett's ear as she read the words that did not include her relationship with Castle.

"I know, Castle. We aren't married, we aren't relatives," Kate said.

"Well, I hope not," Rick said, and as Kate glared at him, he corrected himself. "Relatives, I mean. That would be weird. 'Spouses', though. Not weird at all. Awesome. That would be awesome," he said, grinning as she smiled, glowing for a precious instant.

She smiled at him before turning to look out her window, her hands sliding along the curve of the steering wheel. "Gates gave me that. She knows it's you, Castle, she's known since I spoke to her almost two weeks ago, but when she asked me what my decision was, the only thing I could say was "leave". I didn't mean for her, or us, to break any rules, I just… I made it clear that I couldn't be there right now, but that I _wanted _to be. I told her that I wanted there to be a place for you to return to once you are well again, and she gave me this," Kate said, turning her head back to look at him.

"But, what about the 'relatives' stuff?" he asked.

Kate sighed. "She asked about my father. Implied that he was of advanced age, which he is, I guess. I am to fill this packet out," Kate said, grabbing the stapled edge from his lap before she continued. "I am to fill this out, and every line where I should write your name, I'll write 'James Beckett'," Kate finished, shrugging as she pronounce her father's given name.

"She wants you to lie," Rick said, leaning back in his seat.

"No, I don't think that's it, Castle. She wants me to be eligible for this leave. She wants me, and you, to be able to come back here," Kate explained.

"But you feel bad about it," Rick said. It wasn't a question.

"I feel… like I'm taking advantage of the system. Like a shark, I guess, so of course I feel bad, but how many times have we bent the rules over the last four years, Rick? I feel worse when we go rogue and get ourselves in over our heads than I do about this. Cops do this. All of them do, and maybe that's a crappy excuse but what it comes down to is if you are bending the truth for the good guys or the bad guys," Kate said, satisfied when she thought of it that way. It had settled her down in Gates' office when, instead of shoving the papers back toward the Captain, leaving with the same problem she came in with, she allowed herself to believe that among the good and the bad, they had never crossed that clear but invisible line that you couldn't cross back over.

'_Everybody Lies'_, she had said to herself, the words hushing into a whisper, the hard sounds of the consonants allowing themselves to be heard.

"So, you're okay with this?" Castle asked as he searched her eyes. He had learned somewhere along the way, as they began to know each other even when no words were spoken, that her eyes would betray her. Even if her voice swore its certainty, when her pupils turned dark, almost black as they dilated, it only took a second for him to read the truth.

Rick smiled as her beautiful, hazel eyes shone his favorite shade of green, like emeralds in the sunlight, refracting rainbows across the dashboard. "We're going to be okay," Kate said, running her fingers across the lines of the car interior before crossing over the center console to lace her fingers with his. She again took note, as she always did, of the drastic size difference of their hands, his nearly large enough to hide hers completely, wrapped up in his palm. It reminded her of the way she felt in the cave of his torso as he lay on his side in bed, leaning over her as she moved so close that their skin felt almost connected, warm and damp and protecting.

"I am so incredibly lucky," Rick said, shaking his head in disbelief. "I just love you. So much, Kate."

She smiled at him in that gorgeous way that spelled out everything she felt for him, silently but with so much volume. She reached for his forehead, her thumb rubbing the smooth skin under his hair line as their eyes caught one another again. Her gaze shot quickly to his lips then back up to his eyes. The move was instantaneous, easy to miss if he didn't know it was coming, but he knew it by now. He knew what desire looked like on her face and in her eyes. He knew when she wanted to kiss him, and his heart always skipped a beat, still not completely used to that fact that she _wanted _him.

* * *

"When was the last time you were at your apartment?" Castle asked, his voice groggy, his hand lazily stroking the soft skin of her arm as she lay curled into his chest, her head resting just below his shoulders.

"Um, I was there on Sunday grabbing some clothes, and last week I stopped by to pick up my bigger duffel bag, and I think I took some books with me the day before that," Kate mumbled against his chest, tickling him with her warm breath.

"So the last three times you went to your apartment were quick trips to pick up things to bring here, right?" he asked coyly.

She turned her head so she could look him in the eye, a slight but loving and familiar smile accompanying the shake of her head. When he annoyed her, or when he said something particularly sarcastic or childish, she would shoot him that unmistakable look, shaking her head and squinting her eyes before she inevitably smiled at him. That wide smile and her bone white teeth made his heart pound as he tried to take note of whatever he did to elicit her response so that he could be sure to do it again. He knew when she looked at him like that that she was thinking about how much she loved him, in spite of his childishness. He would never tell her that he was so aware, though, for fear that she would stop.

What he didn't know was how perfectly aware she was about the subtle looks she had mastered, speaking a language of amusement, annoyance, the feeling of how smitten she felt in his arms. Sometimes she even felt embarrassed by how open she had become, how transparent, but she always felt so completely in love.

"I know what you're getting at, Rick, and you're probably right," she conceded, his mouth dropping in disbelief.

"Wait a minute! Hold the phone, Kate," he said loudly, pausing for dramatic effect. He sat up, pushing her up with him as she moved back to rest back against his chest. "Did you, Katherine Beckett, just say that _I_, Richard Alexander Rodgers was, and I quote: _'probably right?'_"

"Castle, the self-centered smugness is not attractive, and it's clearly getting you nowhere," Kate said as they collapsed together back onto the mattress again. This time they landed on their sides, facing one another as their connected bodies left little space between them.

There was so little of their skin that wasn't touching, in constant contact with hands and mouths and fingers. Despite the threat of her words, they were both certainly getting somewhere, and they were getting their together.

"Move in with me," Rick said suddenly, laughing as he rolled on top of her, looking into her eyes.

"Rick, it's…" she began, her hesitation quickly interrupted before she could decline his offer.

"What? It's what, Kate? You are on leave with me, and you are here nine days out of ten anyway. I can't even remember the last time you slept at your place, and I don't want you to," he said as he possessively pressed his hips into hers.

"Want me to what, Castle?" she asked, smiling. She was toying with him, and he returned the favor by settling his mouth over the skin of her neck, then moving to cover her lips with his, responding to her gasp.

"I. don't. want. You. To. Sleep. There." He said, his teeth grazing her lips and chin between each word before he moved just slightly up her body to look at her face again. "I don't want you to sleep anywhere except with me," he said, seriousness taking over the lowered octave in his voice. "Wherever we sleep, I want us to be together, in the same bed. And here? I want my bedroom to be _our _bedroom, and I want everything of yours that's already strewn across my loft to be official, because it's _our _loft. Your delicious, fruity body washes and exfoliators and teeth whitening strips already take up half my sink. My shower is filled with your stuff. My closet is absolutely already "our" closet, Kate," he said, gesturing to the near even split between her clothes and his through the open wardrobe doors. "You can't deny it."

Rick rolled off of her, and she nearly yelped at the loss of his warmth, but he kept his hand splayed over her midsection, stroking her side. They faced each other again, legs tangling, their heads sharing a single pillow.

"This is _your _side," he said with a tenderness that she felt through her entire body and out her toes. "Right here," he said as his hands touched the pillow under her head, then moved to practically trace her body in the space it occupied. "This is your real estate, Kate," he said softly.

Kate stroked his face, her eyes on his lips, his chin. "You say the most amazing things, Castle," she whispered, her eyes roving up to meet his. "No one has ever made me feel their words through my entire body. It's like magic, but it's so completely real."

Castle pulled her lips to his, whispering against her as they touched. "No, it's definitely magic," he said as he leaned forward to take her mouth with his again. "Move in with me," he said again, his face so close to hers, holding her lips hostage. He was serious, having laid his cards out on the table.

She smiled at him a dozen different ways as her heart pounded in her chest. It felt like a combination of excitement and insecurity, but mostly love. _"There it is again," _she thought. It was an all consuming feeling that still scared her with its intensity, but that she refused to live without. That prospect was far scarier than facing life's uncomfortable truths.

"Yes, Castle. Of course I'll 'officially' move in with you," she promised, finally, prepared for the weight of his arms as he pulled her to him, their chests crashing together.

"I should probably stop paying rent for a place I don't actually live in," she joked before he shut her up for the night, his mouth committing with hers for a long, slow exploration. It was her favorite kind of kiss.

* * *

As she picked up his jeans off the bedroom floor to add to the laundry, she pulled his belt out of the loops, noticing the newly notched hole about an inch past the last one. She ran her fingers along the rough cut in the leather, probably made with a knife or a pair of scissors. During his last chemo session, Dr. Stanley had told him he had lost almost ten pounds, and that he should try his best to keep his calorie intake up. Kate had rolled her eyes at the way the doctor spoke in terms that made everything sound _so _much easier said than done. It wasn't as simple as taking anti-nausea medication or limiting meals to light foods and liquids, and her own helplessness infuriated her. His shoulders, always so wide and broad had maintained their width, but the edges were sharp, just bone covered by skin, not nearly the pillow they used to be. His chin came to a point, no longer absorbed by the padded thickness of his cheeks. She didn't know what to do, and then imagined that her own powerlessness likely paled in comparison to the feelings he was dealing with. Still, she would not watch him deteriorate before her eyes. She would not let him hide behind new belt holes and his own fears.

"I know you don't love taking them, Rick, but you have to give the pills the _chance _to do some good. I don't think we should just write them off and assume that they clearly aren't working like they should be," she said, insistent. "You sleep _maybe _fifty percent of the time, and I don't remember the last time I saw you ingest anything that wasn't a milkshake," Kate said, trying to cut the frustration out of her voice. It wasn't his fault, and she knew that the one being dealt a shitty hand was him.

"I'm just not hungry," he said. "It's part of this, Kate. You know that." As if on cue, his chest tightened and he was briefly but overwhelmingly breathless. It was another symptom of the lymphoma, and it was just another event he tried to mentally prepare, but was always taken off guard. Thankfully, this bout was short, like the feeling of having the wind knocked out of you. Unfortunately, Kate had seen it, seen him struggle for a few frantic seconds, his eyes wide with panic, and it was not the first time.

"Rick," she said softly as she helped him to the couch. Even if he did feel fine on his feet, he would give this one to her, and allow her to hold up her end of the deal: that they would take care of each other. "Rick," she said again, tucking her legs under her as she sat on the couch next to him, facing him. The feeling of her fingers playing with his hair against his forehead felt intimate, calming. It had that effect on both of them.

"What if it didn't _have _to be part of this?" she asked, a soft urgency in her voice as she referred back to the bag of pot still waiting for him in his desk drawer. "Castle, you're hurting, and I hate to watch you go through it. What If it worked? Imagine how much better you would feel after a real meal and a good night's sleep."

He answered almost immediately, closing his eyes first to rein in the volume he knew was attached to the anger he felt. He didn't want to raise his voice at her, ever, but he did nearly cut her off, snapping at her. "You think I don't imagine how _fucking great _that would be? Every time I watch you sleep, counting every fucking tile on your ceiling, I think of how great it would be to just be able to close my eyes and not have to worry about opening them again a moment later, all night long." His voice was incredulous, and packed with a combination of anger and self pity, but he knew right away that his anger had been inappropriate, and misdirected at the very least.

He watched her turn her head away from him, towards the window at a tilt where he couldn't see her. He couldn't see as her eyes began to fill, as she cursed herself silently as her lip began to quiver, and then as a runaway tear escaped her left eye.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, still looking away from him.

She heard him sigh heavily, and could feel him move in his seat, turning his body so he was facing her, even though she wasn't looking back.

"No, I'm sorry," said Rick. "I never meant to speak to you like that. You didn't deserve it." Kate looked towards him, finally and briefly as the tips of his fingers pulled at her chin.

After a moments silence, Rick spoke suddenly. "There are 1,278," he said.

"What?" Kate asked, her head tilted and her face curious.

"Tiles," he said. "There are 1,278 tiles on your ceiling."

She laughed at him in the bright, new way that he had only just become privileged enough to appreciate. It exposed her perfect, ivory teeth, and stretched her lips almost from ear to ear as she began to master these new smiles, reserved only for him. The truth was that no one had ever brought them out of her before. She had also never trusted anyone enough to share what she saw as an extremely intimate window into her heart. No other man had ever come close.

* * *

Kate had gotten used to waking throughout the night, jarred by Castle's restless movements or loud sighs. Knowing he was awake, she would reach for him, letting him know he wasn't alone anymore as she gently soothed him by touching his arms and chest, massaging him. When she would wake completely, pulling out of the haze that exists between sleeping and waking, she would often talk to him, helping the hours pass in conversation or just the exchange of words of love and terms of endearment, spoken softly in each other's ears.

"No one has ever touched me like you do," she whispered as she dropped kisses on his lips and neck. "It's like your hands are charged, making my muscles jump, and I can feel your heartbeat in the tips of all your fingers."

"Just so you know, your muscles _do _jump when I touch you. Especially your stomach muscles. Your abs. I think it's incredibly hot, to feel your body respond that way. So visceral. You're amazing," he said.

"I realized something," she said, her words reverberating through his chest as her head rested on him, her arm slung across his body, landing so that her fingers could almost touch the mattress on the other side of him, under the space of his chest and torso.

"What's that?" he asked, inquisitively. He loved the little mysteries of Katherine Beckett. The little anecdotes that lived inside of her were coming out more and more. It was at the most random places and times that she suddenly decided to open up, to tell him something about what defined her life, her heart, her growth into the woman he loved so much. He loved these moments because each one cemented their future together. He wanted to know everything about her, and was quite sure he would continue to learn new facets of her every day for the rest of their lives, just as he had every year of the previous four. He imagined loving her more each day still, even when they are old and gray, should they both be so lucky to make it to that milestone, to the winter of their lives.

She hesitated, as she often did when she felt vulnerable about what was on its way out of her mouth. He felt it, could picture her in the dark. The right side of her bottom lip was between her teeth and she was trying to hold back a sigh, trying to slow down her breath. He knew when her arm moved from its casually thrown position to grip his bicep that she was working things out. He would wait for her, like always, and even though her mind would wander, she would come back to him. She never went far, not anymore, and he was much more comfortable with the mental space she needed as opposed to the physical. That was something that _he _needed to work on, he knew. He needed to be okay with her having some autonomy, just a few hours here and there to refuel without thinking that she is leaving him or that she has suddenly stopped loving him.

"I realized," she began, lines creasing across her forehead as she paused. "I realized that I've never been in love before," she said as her fingers spread across his chest. She pulled her palm up, as if it were attached to a string, leaving her fingers in contact with his sensitive skin.

Rick turned his head toward her, cocked to the side, confused and avoiding assumptions. He sometimes felt like she was speaking in code, reasonably certain of what she was trying to say but needing the words to be defined as they bottlenecked on the way out of her mouth. He let her take it slow, because "slow" was the speed she operated best on when it came to matters of the heart. Castle didn't mind, though, because "slow" was what brought them together and "slow" felt so good and so sweet. Fast was good, slow was better, so much better.

Her eyes were hidden as her head lay on his chest, touching him lightly, making him shiver with the feather light caresses she trailed across his skin. The arm he had wrapped around her made similar movements on her back, feeling the hard angles of her scapula and vertebrae.

The seconds ticked slowly by as he waited patiently for her to continue speaking. Her admission, her "realization" was exciting but still so vague. What he _thought _she was saying, and he still fought with himself, not wanting to assume, was that what they had was the definition of love, the best they could imagine, the best she could imagine.

He felt her long intake of breath as she tapped and typed with her fingers across his skin. "I've said it before, twice actually," she began. "I've told two men that I loved them, and I've believed it another couple of times. I thought that a connection, and the passage of a bit of time were enough. I thought that it meant contentment, enjoying each other's company, making one another laugh, holding hands as we walked down the street. I thought it meant that all these things were the pieces that would complete the puzzle, that that was love. As it turned out, I had no idea at all, no idea at all," she said.

Castle tightened his arms across her shoulders, and felt her pull closer to him, draping a leg in between his, connecting them. "I had no idea what love was," she said, her warm breath tickling his skin.

"Well, what about now?" he asked, each word punctuated by a self conscious pause. "What do you… feel… about what love is now?"

Kate chuckled, turning her face into him as she kissed him just below his shoulder. "It's so much more than I could have imagined," she said as she felt their skin radiating heat together under the covers. "Today, with you, I know that it is all about loyalty and trust, patience, a sense of humor, and the certain knowledge that this is _worth _it," she added. "I've learned from us, from you that this is so completely different from any relationship I've been in before. No one has ever made me shiver with their fingertips," she ended with a pause before turning her head to look at his face again. His eyes were dark and shiny, as if they were holding tears that were about to fall over the levee.

Kate extricated her arm from between them, reaching up to touch his face, to arouse and encourage while trying to convey how desperately in love she was, for the first time. Rick pulled his arm from its space across her back, covering her hand with his, letting it linger there for a moment before pulling his hand, and then hers with it, lacing their fingers together. As their eyes pulled toward each other like a rare earth magnet, she resisted the urge to break the eye contact. The intensity brought anxiety along with it, and baring her soul made her feel uncomfortable and vulnerable.

"I've never been in love before," Kate said again. "Never before you. I had no idea what I was missing, how _amazing _it could be, how real it could be."

She heard the shudder in his voice as he inhaled deeply, his heart full to the brim. "You have no idea how wonderful it feels to hear you say that," Rick said as he reached for the tendrils of hair that covered her forehead and eyes, tucking them behind her ears. "I will never love another woman the way I love you. I will never touch or kiss another woman again. You are it for me, Kate," Castle said, passion pushing his words up his windpipe and out his mouth. "If _this _is what love is," he said as he squeezed her hand. "If this is what it feels like, than I've never felt it before either."

"One and done," Kate said, springing her shoulders upward while looking at him. Nothing more needed to be said, and the fact that it was theirs, that they had been each other's "one and done" for years made those unconventional three words as meaningful as any "I love you". They were all just words when it came down to it. They knew what they meant.

"And you might argue with me on a technicality, well, two technicalities, but you are absolutely my 'one and done'," he said. If I had any idea that you existed in the world, that you would come into my life, I would have waited forever. If I knew that there was a beautiful, perfect woman for me, one who would break my heart and save it, one who would make me want to be a better man, if I knew there was any chance of that, I would have waited till you came along and proposed to you the first day I met you."

"Yeah, I'm glad you didn't do that," she said, a smile in her voice as she remembered that day. It felt like forever ago. In another sense, if felt like just yesterday, or last week. They had both changed so much since that day, and they had continued to change every single day they spent together.

"You hated me then," he said as he leaned forward to kiss her nose. "No hard feelings, though. I won out in the end," he joked.

"I didn't _hate _you, Castle," Kate said, her voice changing pitch as she tries to convince him. "I saw you as some entitled rich guy who I was going to have to take care of as you invaded my space and my life. It actually disappointed me that you ruined the idea I had in my mind when I looked at your portrait on the back of your books."

She laughed as she saw his mouth open into a surprised "O", feigning hurt at her words. "I'm glad it worked out the way it did," he said, pulling her towards him as he rolled onto his side to face her.

"Me too," she said, leaning forward to kiss him, her hand on his chin.

After a steady period of silence, Rick's even breaths became heavy, pulling Kate from the doze she had just slid into. "You okay, Castle?" she asked, her voice deep from slumber. "Yeah," he said, kissing the top of her head. "I'll do it," he mumbled into her hair.

"Do what?" she asked, pulling her head from its place tucked under his, her eyes meeting his.

"I'll smoke the pot that Mother brought home. I'll give it a shot," he said. "Sleep would be great, for both of us. So would an appetite and a break from the nausea. Worst case scenario, it doesn't work, but I owe it to both of us to try," he said.

Kate slid up his chest, kissing him deeply, their lips moving languidly together. When she pulled back, the smack of their separating lips made her smile at him in the dark. "Don't do it for me, Rick. Do it because you think there is a chance it might help _you_," she said.

"I'm doing it for _us_," he said, lifting his head to kiss her again. "Is that good enough?" he asked, gently.

"Works for me," she answered, kissing the skin on his neck and chest, his hands drawing circles on her back, allowing her to close her eyes and settle into sleep against his side.

* * *

Kate and Castle stood outside the loft for a long minute while he looked for his key. When he finally pulled it from the corner of his back pocket, he turned around to apologize quickly before turning the knob and walking inside.

They had barely gotten their coats off, hung up their keys, and kicked off their shoes when their domestic routine was interrupted by Martha, wearing a flowing kimono with billowing sleeves that with her red hair made her look like an Irish geisha. She was loose, practically floating as she approached them.

Martha glided past them, her arms swaying high and dramatic, matching the dance of her body as she moved. Kate laughed at the sight, always impressed and amused by Martha's natural theatricality. She could, without a doubt, see where Castle got the tendency from. Martha was a woman with many connections in the world of high society, but she was also funny, independent and loyal. Aside from her taste in fine clothes, not much else gave Martha Rodgers away as a wealthy woman who mingled with the upper crust of New York City.

Despite the fact that Martha rubbed elbows with the city's A-list, she _always _put her wonderful, unconventional family in front of everything else. Kate enjoyed Martha's company. She loved how outspoken she was, but more than anything, she just liked having an older woman around. Martha was so very different than Johanna Beckett, but it still felt a bit like having a mother again, alive and in the flesh, or at least someone close to the next best thing. What Kate appreciated most was that Martha had never made her feel like anything less than family, even when she was clearly someone who had brought danger, and then heartbreak, into her son's life.

Rick knew what his mother was doing as she flitted about like Madame Butterfly, and even though he had thought about it, he was still uncertain. He seemed to change his mind a dozen times over the course of a few days, usually vowing to himself that he wouldn't smoke it, that he didn't need it.

As every love and passion filled evening with Kate turned into a sleepless night for him, during which he felt essentially alone as he watched her absorbed in sleep, he thought differently. When she woke for him, sacrificing her own sleep hygiene to keep him company, he thought differently. His desperation was changing his point of view, so he closed his eyes and decided to stop fighting. Rick changed his mind every single time he didn't fall asleep beside her, and every time he couldn't eat whatever it was that smelled so good when Kate or Alexis or Martha brought take-out into the loft.

When Castle finally decided to give it a try, he made sure that Alexis would be out of the house. He felt guilty, as a parent, and even though he didn't think that it was out of the realm of possibility that Alexis had tried it, he didn't want her to think less of _him _for using it. He knew it was silly to be so worked up about it. Most of the adults he knew, including several prominent figures, from writers to politicians smoked at least occasionally. One of his friends, a particular New York Times bestselling author, owned the most elaborate bong he had ever seen, with various chambers and filters, all crafted in worked, hand blown glass. It was truly a work of art, and when Castle had seen it, he was fascinated by the intricacies of it and was surprised to know that it was created by someone with a scientific glass blowing degree, and not just some hippie with a torch.

Rick had smoked almost habitually during his early 20's, even while he wrote, but when Alexis was born, he didn't think twice about it, and hadn't touched it since. Basically, he didn't think that there was anything wrong with an adult smoking pot in the privacy of their own home. It was like having a glass of wine, really. This was _his _home, though, and that made it feel different and weird

"Okay, Mother, so where are we going to do this?" he asked, sounding irritated.

"What about my bedroom?" Martha suggested, turning her head towards him.

"Ugh, do you _really _want to stink up the place, Mother?"

"Richard, I have been smoking the stuff every now and again in my room for years, and you've never said a thing," she said, her hands on her hips.

"Did you smoke already today, Mother? Are you crazy?" He asked, incredulous. He could see Kate doing her best to hold back her laughter, covering her eyes with her hand and shaking her head. She made him want to laugh, because truthfully, the situation was hilarious when he really broke it down.

"Fine, we'll go to your room. Better yours then mine, I guess," he said, conceding defeat and leading the way as they headed upstairs toward his mother's bedroom, reaching for Kate's hand as she walked behind him. When they reached the hallway, his mother moved around them to open her door. They followed as she entered her room, and were immediately overwhelmed by the smell of patchouli incense and the sharp notes of the saxophone solo from Pink Floyd's "Money", again making Rick shake his head at the absurdity of it all. Who knew that his mother was a total stoner? He was surprised that she didn't drive a VW bus.

When Rick looked up from the iPod speakers sitting on her dresser, Martha was holding a large, ornate hookah. It looked authentic, as if it had actually come from the Middle East, and not some discount convenience store on Canal Street. The pipe had two hoses with carved wooden mouthpieces, and was made of shiny blue glass and what looked to be some type of aged metal, maybe copper. It was interesting, but it didn't make him feel better, or any less ridiculous about the whole thing. Having Kate around added to his apprehension, as he feared that her ingrained police training and connection to the law would bring about disapproval or even disappointment, despite the fact that she had implied nothing but the opposite.

"Come on, Mother!" He whined. "There is no way I'm going to use a _hookah_! Where did you get that thing anyway?" he asked, disbelieving. "If I'm going to do this, I do not want to play Cheech and Chong. Don't you have any papers hidden in your stash box, _Mother_?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I, for one, prefer _not_ to smoke paper. I enjoy the ancient, regal tradition of the hookah," Martha said dramatically. "If you absolutely _must _smoke a joint, you'll have to roll it. I keep some papers on hand for 'emergencies'," she said, making air quotes with her fingers at the word "emergency" as she reached into a wooden box next to her chair.

"Oh my God, Mother. You really do have a stash box!" Rick said loudly. As he turned to Kate, he shook his head at her. "I'm in the Twilight Zone, Kate. Seriously. This is The friggin' Twilight Zone!"

Kate laughed at his reaction, increasingly amused at the entire scene unfolding in front of her, all the while wondering to herself why she wasn't nearly as surprised at the recreational activities of Martha Rodgers as her son was. Kate reached for his face, leaning down to him as she sat on the arm of the small couch Martha kept in her room. She took his cheeks in the palms of her hands before planting a quick, reassuring kiss on his lips.

Rick smiled at her, the depth and shine of her eyes pulling him to her, making him feel so much more comfortable in this most awkward of situations.

"Mother, I haven't rolled a joint in years. You're telling me that you have this secret stoner lifestyle, but you don't know how to roll one?" he challenged.

Kate moved away from Rick to sit on the couch, closer to Martha. She flashed a quick smile back at Rick, and then to Martha before leaning over the table in front of her, reaching for one of the tight, lime-green buds and the package of papers.

Rick watched Kate break the bud apart from larger chunks to small pieces of shake, the perfect consistency for rolling an effective joint. His mouth dropped in shock as her hands moved purposefully, like she knew what she was doing. "Kate?" he asked, a surprised lilt in his voice betraying his discomfort. He never wanted her to be this involved. He never wanted her to do something that was against her morality, her integrity, or the demands and expectations of her job.

She stilled her nimble fingers and turned to look at him. "Its okay, Castle. It's all okay," Kate said, her voice filled with reassurance. "Just relax, and if you're going to worry about someone, it doesn't need to be me. I've got this." She flashed him a wide, genuine smile before turning back to the task in front of her.

Kate had created a small pile of the broken-up plant matter, returning the larger, leftover buds to their original wrapping. She then grabbed the rectangular packet of rolling papers, pulling one from the slit on the inside of the cardboard package.

The room was quiet as both Rick and Martha watched her work, at this most unexpected of skills she apparently possessed. She had folded the small, thin paper in half before picking the weed up, pinched between her fingers. She sprinkled it evenly across the fold in the paper, then used the hard surface of the table to roll it into a perfectly round joint, nearly indistinguishable from an actual cigarette. After she ran her tongue along the gummed edge of the paper, sealing it, she handed the finished product to Martha.

"I didn't know you could do that," Rick said, still surprised, taken aback.

Kate shrugged. "It's been awhile, but I guess it's like riding a bike," she said.

Their heads turned as they heard the sound of the lighter wheel being turned against its flint, emitting a spark, then a small flame that Martha used to light the joint, turning it in her fingers so that it would burn evenly. Rick gasped involuntarily as he watched his mother put the joint to her lips, inhaling, her drag making the cherry red tip of the cigarette burn brighter.

As Martha pulled the joint from her lips, releasing a straight plume of smoke as she exhaled, she handed the cigarette to Kate, who sat between Rick and Martha. Expecting her to hand it straight to him, he was shocked to see her bring it to her own lips. "Kate, no," Rick said. He was certain she would regret it, and that he would be to blame.

"What's the problem?" Kate asked, her words mingling with the smoke that left her mouth and nostrils.

"You don't have to do this, Kate." He said.

Kate was perfectly aware of the legality surrounding the activity they were partaking in, but surprisingly, she didn't care all that much right now. "Well, I kind of just did it, Rick. Plus, I'm on leave," she said. "Actually, I'm on _vacation_," she chose instead. She knew that this wasn't a situation that she would regret, and she certainly wasn't going to let him do it alone. It was something she had decided long before Martha surprised them both with her connections.

She watched him as she passed him the joint, watched him hesitate before delicately taking it from her fingers with his, her hand deliberately brushing against his. He slowly inhaled a small amount of smoke into his lungs, a look of surprise on his face as he blew the smoke back out again. The taste and feel of the entire process was familiar, nostalgic. It reminded him of the days when he would sit around a coffee table with his friends, laughing hysterically for no good reason. On a darker note, it also reminded him of his failed marriages and shattered expectations. Whiskey was his best friend during those times, but he numbed himself with pot as well, sitting outside in his parked car so as not to bring it inside. He was realizing that his apprehension about this situation likely came from the negative points in his life that he most recently associated with the activity. This time, however, before he handed the joint back to Martha, he took a longer inhalation, effectively breaking the ice as Martha and Kate laughed at his sudden enthusiasm.

"Its good stuff, kid," said Martha, her voice deepened as she held in her hit, tapping the burning end on the ashtray.

"I still can't believe you've been smoking for this long and I never knew it," Rick said, shaking his head and smiling at the dizzying feeling.

"Honey, _everyone _does it. Don't let anyone tell you any different!" Martha said with her oft added dramatics, her finger waving in the air to stress her point.

Kate laughed again, smiling wide as she looked down at Castle from her spot next to him on the arm of the loveseat. "That's excellent maternal advice, Rick," she said.

What had started as a quiet round robin soon turned into a lighthearted, laugh-filled gathering. It was a relief to him, and he didn't notice until the clench had released that his stomach muscles had loosened, the cramping subsided, and the nausea had moved away from his immediate consciousness.

Time lost a bit of its significance, and the tension he had walked into the room with lifted as he wrapped his arm around Kate's waist, leaning his head against her side.

"The summer after my senior year of high school was probably the most stoned period of my life," Kate began as she rubbed her arms across his shoulders "My friend had this old minivan with that awful wood paneling, and one day we dragged all the seats out of the back and left them on the side of the road so that the whole group of us could just sit on the floor in the back and smoke." Kate laughed at the memory. "We even considered hanging a disco ball from the ceiling, but we figured it might become a projectile while we were driving."

"Wait, you did all that _while driving_? Rick asked, the paternal side of him emerging for just a moment.

"I thought I implied that we were lacking in the common sense department," Kate said as she exhaled what was left of what was turning into a very short roach.

He nodded at her, rubbing circles into her side as her hand made its way across his shoulder, warm through his shirt. Martha waved her hand to decline as Kate extended to pass the roach her way, so Kate turned to Rick, a coy smile on her face. "You want to take a shotgun?" She asked, turning towards him and sliding into his lap. "Oh wow, I remember those," he said, nodding at her as he wrapped his arms around her waist. She twisted his shirt in her hand, moving so close that their lips nearly touched. They could feel their warm breaths mingling together, and as he leaned in to kiss her, she pulled her head back, taking one last, deep inhale before dropping the remainder of the joint in the ashtray. Their eyes locked again as his lips opened, their mouths nearly connected again. As she exhaled, the smoke travelled from her lungs, out her mouth and into his, a thick plume of white filling the tiny space between them as it rushed between their mouths.

It felt sensual, thick, and filling. It felt intimate as they shared their breath along with the smoke. He felt the slow, continual rising of his intoxication as she came into focus, the background fading behind her. Her hand still wound around the fabric of his shirt, she pulled him closer, closing the minute distance as her tongue worked its way across the smile she could feel on his lips before he granted access. She rose up on his lap, her knees framing his thighs as she straddled him, hardly any space between them as they kissed, tongues jockeying for control as their passion was spurred onward by the veil of their high.

They pulled back as their chests heaved, filling the space in what felt like a tiny little world just for them, where only they existed. As Castle's eyes adjusted to the room around him, he was shocked at the massive haze that had filled the room, surrounding them. "Holy shit, look at all the smoke!" Rick exclaimed, waving his free hand through it, laughing as he displaced the cloud.

"Where did you expect it to go, Richard?" asked Martha, sarcastic. Her eyes were nearly closed as she leaned back into her chair, looking perfectly content as she enjoyed her high. It looked as though she was journeying through her own little world, not allowing much to disrupt her.

Rick, however, was mortified, having nearly forgotten that they were in his mother's bedroom, _with his mother_. His face reflected exaggerated disbelief, exacerbated by how stoned he realized he was. Still sitting across his lap, he saw Kate look over at Martha, then quickly back to him. She rubbed reassuring circles at the back of his neck, resting her head on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Castle," she said quietly, "She's fine, we're all fine. There's nothing to worry about."

He felt the brief pang of anxiety begin to subside, medicated by the balm of her words and her touch.

"_How did I never smell this_?" Rick thought aloud, with skeptical incredulity.

"OH!" Kate yelled suddenly, startling Rick and nearly falling off the couch as the music switched to "Joy to the World" by Creedence Clearwater Revival. "I _love _this song," Kate said as she stood up, swaying and humming, even singing a word here and there. She was out of tune but free and open as she stood between Rick's legs. He reached up to her shoulders and pulled her down to his face, their foreheads bumping hard, causing them to both pull back quickly, laughing. Their depth perception had been collectively affected by the joint that had been burned almost to the end and had been left forgotten in the ashtray on the coffee table.

Martha pushed herself off her chair, stretching as she stood. "Well, Kate, it doesn't surprise me that your taste in music is as diverse and superior as mine," she said. "I'll be leaving now, kids. I have a date that I don't want to keep waiting, so I'd like my room back in a few hours, if you get my meaning," she said with a wink and a nod.

Holding Kate's hand as she regained her balance, Rick looked towards his mother. "Mother, you aren't planning on driving right now, are you?"

"Richard," she said, "I might be wild and untamed, but I am not stupid, my dear. The car is waiting, of course." With that, she patted Kate on the back and leaned down to kiss her son on the cheek before disappearing out her door.

Rick immediately looked back up at Kate, both of them bursting into hearty, pointless laughter as he reached for her again, pulling more carefully until their lips met for several quick, smiling kisses. He moved his hands to her hips as she continued moving to the music, singing against his lips. _"Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea, joy to you and me…"_

He stood up quickly, pushing her back so that he could move with her, covering her surprised expression with his mouth, kissing her strongly and aggressively as the playlist stopped, and they settled into a slower rhythm. They continued to sway, breaking apart every few minutes to laugh or bite or squeeze playfully.

"I'm so fucking stoned," Castle said against her mouth.

"Mmhmm," she mumbled. "You feel good?"

He nodded as they remained clinging together, wrapped around one another as if they were still dancing, despite the fact that the speakers had been quiet for minutes or longer. Neither could be quite sure of the time or how long it had been.

"Let's sit back down," Kate said, her legs like jelly beneath her, begging to be folded under her as she sat on his lap.

He kissed her quickly, his hand gently holding her chin. "Let's go down to our room, then. It's bizarre enough that we just smoked pot with her, but we also made out in front of her. I need to try to work through all that, and I'd rather do so by _not _thinking about it at all, and instead focusing on you while I hold you in my arms in my bedroom," he said, chastely kissing her at the corner of her lips. "Sound like a good plan?" he asked.

"I like it," she said, low and sensuous, the way she lowered her voice an octave when she was seducing him. It was an enchanting sound, and he loved when he was fortunate enough to hear it. "Good plan, Castle," she added, her hands stroking his chest as he turned to the door. He slid his palm from its spot on the small of her back up to her shoulder, then down her arm until his fingers tied with hers on his chest. As he pulled their hands down, still connected, he tugged her behind him, opening the door with his free hand. They made their way down the stairs, laughing as they stumbled, stopping every few feet to share a kiss.

Once inside his office, Kate all but pushed him down onto the small couch in the room, allowing him to pull her down to him, just as he had on the first night they had knocked the final bricks of her wall to rubble. As she sat astride him again, she wrapped her arms around his neck in a tight hug, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin behind his ear, feeling him shudder at the sensation.

He seated his hands low on her back, cradling the lower half of her body while sliding his thumbs under the hem of her shirt, circling across the skin he found there.

"I've always wanted to get a metal detector," Rick said randomly, feeling her laughter against his neck and shoulder before she leaned back against him, smiling so he could see it.

"You're still stoned, aren't you?" Kate asked. He nodded in response. "Absolutely," he said. "Aren't you?"

"Definitely," she said. "So a metal detector, huh? Like a hobbyist one? To search for treasure?"

"Yup," he said, his lip making a popping sound as he said the word. "Always wanted one."

"Where do you plan on going to find this treasure?" she asked, running her hands over the broad front of his chest.

"It's New York, baby! There's treasure everywhere," he answered enthusiastically, tapping her on the nose as he let out a high pitched "boop" sound.

"You are completely adorable," she said, leaning into him again, their chests connected as she gently touched her forehead to his, still being careful to land softly against him. They held each other close, quiet, appreciating the peace the moment provided.

"So, you were right, you know," he said, tangling a hand into her hair.

"Hmm?" she asked. "Right about what?"

"About this being helpful. Smoking, I mean." He still couldn't refer to the activity more specifically out loud, still struggling with the gnawing fear that what he did _was _wrong or something he should feel guilty for. "I felt like I was letting my daughter down, or you even. I was stubborn."

Kate nodded at him as she tightened her arms around his neck. "You were stubborn, but I get it. I _respect _it," she said. "I didn't give you nearly enough credit for so long, Rick, but when it comes down to it, I've never met anyone so concerned with the wellbeing and happiness of the people they love."

"I thought I was self-centered," he joked, stealing a quick kiss before pulling back to see her rolling her eyes at him, still smiling as she pulled him even closer.

"Oh, you are absolutely self-centered, Castle. Less and less as time goes on, though." She paused, cocking her head to the side, her eyes drifting faraway. "Remember that first book release party? When I came to question you?" she asked, still seeing just him and her and the music and the red tone of that party in her mind's eye.

He chuckled, low in his chest. "Of course I remember. It's not every night a beautiful detective crashes your party to question you in connection to a murder. You were such a badass, too, with your sharp, short haircut. It was so dark," he said, sliding his hand through the tendrils of her hair, his eyes catching hers. "You're so much more of a badass now," he whispered.

Kate laughed quietly, and if he hadn't felt it as it rumbled through her body, he may have missed it. "That night, minutes after meeting you, that was the first time you surprised me, showing me that you were someone completely different than I thought." She said, watching as he searched the memory from his perspective, puzzled as he remembers her unflinching and unimpressed by him. "When?" he asked, his thoughts cut off as she kissed him softly, her fingers stroking her chin.

They slowly separated, and she inched back, supported by his hands. "All of a sudden, you went from being a misogynistic, drunk, ignorant man-whore to being a father, and a son. I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. You had a daughter who clearly loved you, who you loved just as much. It was like you were playing this role, when really you were so much more than that. 'Real', on you, is _so _much more attractive, and I was attracted in that moment, and that scared me. You scared me."

"I _scared _you?" he asked, shocked, because his memory of that night was so different.

"I'm supposed to _know _the people I'm dealing with, how to read them and profile them and you completely turned the tables, Castle. You've been surprising me ever since. I never would have imagined that you are exactly the type of father I want for my children. God, Rick, they are going to love you so much."

Her words robbed him of his voice, unable to think of a suitable response to such a beautiful sentiment. No one had ever said something so moving to him, and hearing it from her was miraculous. She was going to be the reason he survived. He knew it. There was way too much for them to accomplish and experience together, and he refused to give it up.

"I love you," he said, in lieu of a direct response to her poetic expression. "I love you more than anything," he added. It was the best he could do.

"I love you too," she said. "I love our life together, and our future. You're my family, Rick."

"How do you do that?" he asked. "How do you leave me speechless like that?"

She laughed softly, kissing his forehead with a smacking sound. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

He smiled. "I feel lighter, less anxious. Less nauseous. I feel like I want a grilled cheese sandwich," he said with a grin.

"Seriously, Castle? A grilled cheese?" she asked, disbelieving.

"Seriously. I'm hungry," he said, grinning ear to ear.

"Seriously?" she said again, this time in a whisper, dubious, and scared to get excited.

"Yeah! I'm serious, Kate!" he said, eagerly trying to convince her. "It's so weird, Kate. I hadn't realized that I had actually gotten _used _to feeling nauseous and cramping and aching. I had _forgotten _what being hungry feels like, but I'm fucking hungry, Kate!" he nearly cried out, his voice cheerful and overwhelmed.

Kate nearly fell to the ground as she quickly moved to extricate herself from his body, his arms. She felt like she was trapping him, and if this experiment had been a success, she knew they had a limited window of time. As she stumbled to her feet, she reached down for him, taking his hands in hers. She pulled hard, and he nearly hopped to his feet and into her arms, which she looped hers under to reach for his shoulders from the back, hugging him to her tightly. He wrapped his arms around her midsection in return, matching the strength of her hold.

"Let's go get you something to eat," she said against his skin, dropping a soft kiss onto his neck before she turned to face the kitchen again through the door, waiting for him to follow. When they reached the breakfast bar, they both sat down, not really sure of what to do next.

"Maybe a grilled cheese is kind of heavy for not having eaten much lately. We could work up to it," she promised.

"So we're just going to become stoners with ever-refined palates?" Rick joked. "What does it matter if it's 'too heavy'? The worst case scenario is that I'll get sick, and it's not like I'm not used to that," he said, his voice becoming more serious as he spoke.

"Because I don't want you to get sick!" she said loudly, nearly shouting, feeling like she could stomp her feet like a little girl, overwhelmed by fear. She immediately felt guilty and embarrassed, especially when she could see how taken aback he was. It was written all over his face. "I'm sorry," she said, and as she started to walk away from him, he grabbed her by the elbow and turned her back towards him. "I'm sorry," she said again, sighing heavily. "I just don't want you to get sick or feel sick or be sick, and I know there isn't a whole lot we can do about that on our own timetable but if there is _anything _we can do to make you feel like _you_, even if it's just for a while, then I think that's _so worth it_. It's up to you, though," she resigned.

"You just made it sound like it wasn't up to me, Kate," he said, his fingers lingering at her triceps. He watched as her eyes fell, as she turned her head so that he couldn't see her face. He pushed himself up off the stool, moving quickly into her space, their bodies so close they may as well have been breathing for each other. He covered the far side of her face with his palm, pulling gently but firmly. He needed her to look at him.

"Kate, it's up to _us._ The things you need are what I need, and everything I go through with this disease, with everything, I don't go through alone. Kate, don't you understand _yet _that I don't want any part of this life without you in it with me. It's yours too, so please don't start to tell me the truth, only to pull away and say that it's up to me. Don't ever lie to me, and don't ever hide from me. We've had enough of that, and I won't let you put up an instantaneously rebuilt wall just because life got real for a minute." He was gripping her arm as his words drifted away. _Wow. _That was the most honest, the most "real" he had been with her either. Maybe to expect her to open up completely, he had to do the same.

As their bodies stayed close, at a proximity that almost made them lose their balance, she slowly leaned into his chest, her arms wrapping around him, her fingernails gripping where her hands met at the middle of his back. "I'm sorry I freaked out about a grilled cheese sandwich," she mumbled into his chest, smiling as she felt the pressure of her lips on top of her head.

"Its okay, Kate," he said gently. "You're probably right. It was probably a bad idea. I just kind of got lost in the feeling of _not _feeling sick, and of actually _wanting_ to eat something. I guess it's one of those things that are so much bigger when you've lost the ability to appreciate it," he explained.

She nodded against his chest. "You still feel alright? Like you could eat?" she asked.

He thought about it for a second, taking notice of the feelings in his chest and stomach before looking at her again, smiling. "Yeah. I could eat," his voice low and quiet, just above a whisper.

Her palms turned against his chest, she pushed away from him as she moved to the kitchen cabinets, sighing. "We'll split a grilled cheese, then." She compromised. He watched her move effortlessly around his kitchen, pulling out a frying pan and setting it on the stove, turning the temperature up. As she turned to make her way to the refrigerator, Castle had already removed a stick of butter and two slices of cheese, grinning at her as she picked the ingredients up off the island.

As the buttered frying pan sizzled, Kate flipped the bread to toast the slices evenly. She stiffened as she felt his hands wrap around her from behind, his chin resting on her shoulder as she cooked for them. She relaxed quickly into his embrace as she added the cheese, covering it with the top slice and pressing with a spatula while she waited for it to start to melt. He had reached for a single plate while she worked, and after flipping the sandwich until the bread was evenly toasted, she picked it up and slid it from the spatula to the plate. She cut the sandwich evenly in half, setting it down on the breakfast bar as they walked around to sit down, each grabbing their half of the sandwich.

"Ready?" she asked. He nodded quickly, eagerly. It smelled amazing, and he was so excited to actually taste it. They bit into the sandwiches together, and he practically moaned, throwing his head back. "It's so good!" he exclaimed. "Jesus, Kate. I've never tasted anything so delicious," he said as he chewed, nearly finishing his half in two and a half bites. He looked up at Kate with a coy smile on his face. "Well, it still pales in comparison to how delicious you are, Kate."

She rolled her eyes at him, shoving him playfully as she enjoyed hers. It actually was pretty good. She was impressed with herself.

As they finished eating, she watched him closely for any signs of nausea or discomfort, but he just looked relaxed, relieved, and wonderfully full. "Let's go to bed," he said, stretching as he stood, waiting until he felt her behind him, her hands on his shoulders, before he started moving towards the bedroom.

As they entered the bed from their respective sides, they met in the middle, automatically connecting. Their legs twisted together, and she laid her head on his shoulder and draped her arm across his torso as he lay flat, his arm wrapped around her as his fingered danced across her skin.

"I still can't believe we got stoned with my mother," he said, his voice thick with sleepiness.

Kate laughed as she thought of the night they had. She had been thoroughly entertained by his awkwardness induced discomfort, but she supposed it was only because she couldn't imagine such a situation, her mother having died when she was barely a teenager. She smiled as she thought of her mother. Yes, it definitely would have been odd if the roles were reversed, and it was her smoking pot with her mom, at any age.

She kissed his chest, still chuckling, blowing puffs of air against the hairs on his skin. "How do you feel otherwise? About the experience itself, I mean. Do you think it was successful?"

"Kate, I spent the better part of three hours almost completely forgetting about any pain, I ate a grilled friggin cheese sandwich, and right now I can barely keep my eyes open. I'm sorry I doubted you, because that was a miracle."

"Don't be sorry," she said. "No sorries. I understand why it was scary for you, why you were apprehensive. I'm just glad it gave you a little bit of relief. That's all I wanted for you," she said, sincerity coating her voice as she held him tight.

"Thank you," he whispered into her hair, kissing her as he pulled her shoulder, bringing her closer to him.

"You're welcome," she responded. "Though you should probably thank you mother," she laughed.

"Kate!" he yelled playfully, pushing towards her so that his body covered hers. She moved her mouth up to catch his, silencing him as they kissed slowly, their rhythm matching how worn-out they both were, drained by the pot, but mostly by the laughter and the kisses and touches, and by the thick emotion.

Their lips separated, and he tilted his forehead towards hers, their eyes lit up by the ambient light in the otherwise darkened room. They stared at each other long and hard, exploring their depths as if searching for the Holy Grail. She watched his as his eyelids began to droop, his head catching each time, waking him when he started to doze.

Still lying on top of her, she reached behind his bobbing, sleepy head and pulled him down to her shoulder, allowing him to use her as a pillow. When he began to move off of her, she held him tightly, and he didn't argue. He just shifted so that their legs formed a chain as they lie connected. As she listened to the sound of his breathing, she could hear when it dropped off from deliberate to unconscious, and the relief was immeasurable. He was asleep, _actually asleep_. She fought against the urge to cry, and she stopped touching his skin, not wanting to do anything to wake him. After listening to the delightful sound of his even, slow breaths for at least a half hour, she finally allowed herself to let go, following him into sleep beside him.

* * *

**One Week Later**

There was no easy way to bring it up. There were no precedents for either of them to look back on. They both had been avoiding it though, and he knew she knew. She had become so careful with him when they kissed or when they were lying next to each other, keeping her hands away from his hair. It was dying on his head, and she was afraid to run her fingers through it anymore, afraid that she would pull back pieces of it as she moved her hand away.

From the very first kiss they shared, even the one that was arguably not real, she had clasped her hands tight to his head, grabbing and stroking his hair with both hands. She loved his hair, loved the short thickness of it, how soft it felt, how strong it was and how it felt to hold onto it, fists tightening as she pulled him close.

She had felt it changing first, and Dr. Stanley had explained that Rick's chemo medication would attack his hair follicle cells while it went after the cancer cells. They hadn't talked much about it, because they both felt similarly about it. They both felt more apprehensive about this symptom than most others, which they were able to meet head on. The doctor said that this feeling was normal, but they both felt shallow and superficial. "It's just hair" they told themselves, but their thoughts ended the same, always, whether it felt shallow or not:

"_But it's my hair."_

"_But it's Rick's hair."_

When it got to the point where his pillow and clothes were collecting larger clumps of his dark brown hair, and what remained felt like straw, sticking up no matter what he did to it, and tickling his face as he tried to wipe the loose strands away. He knew he had no choice. He was losing his hair, and he was going to speed the process himself, because that would be _"easier"._ That's what all the websites told him, and each time he ignored it, telling himself that it wouldn't be him. He told himself that even though somewhere near seventy percent of chemotherapy patients went through it, it wouldn't be him.

As he paced in his bedroom, ignoring the crack in his joints and the sweat rolling down his forehead, he tried to figure out why _this _was so hard, so _terrifying_. He thought of Alexis' hair, and Martha's, and of course, Kate's, and so much of their beauty, their identities, were wrapped up in their hair. It didn't make them who they were, and it didn't change the way he loved them, but their hair was _part _of them.

Still, he was a man, and it should be different for him. He smiled, knowing that Kate would smack him for even _thinking _that way. He knew that she could do the things that any man could do, and that she could completely kick his ass at anything, even on his best day.

When he heard the door shut, he made his way towards the sound. Kate had left an hour earlier for a run, which seemed to be the way that _she _dealt with things. It was a physical activity, nearly a punishment, during which she could focus so strongly on the intensity of her body while pushing away the never ending dialogue her mind so often engaged in.

He walked towards her quickly, anxious and glad to see her, but most of all, he just needed her.

"Are you okay?" she asked, half smiling as she looked at him like he was crazy as he stood wide eyed and shirtless before her.

"My hair's falling out," he said. No sugarcoating.

She nodded, and he watched as her eyes flicked up to his head, above his eyes. She knew.

"I need you to help me shave it." He said.

It felt like an important request, and she was bowled over when he said it. She was not surprised, however. It was not unexpected, and she bit her lip when she thought of all the times over the last few weeks when she reached for him, wanting to touch him only to pull back, out of fear for his feelings, and hers.

And now her heart was breaking as he asked her to shave his hair off. She hadn't said anything about it because she was waiting for _him_, but now she wished he would slow down, wait for her. She wished he could make that choice.

"Of course." She said, trying to make up for any hesitation her thought process might have implied.

She had looked on-line more than once, because as it turned out, she wasn't all that different from him after all. She needed assurances too, even if it came from seemingly ridiculous places. She had found a few websites with different headwear options for chemotherapy patients, and she saw some styles that she thought he might like. She would wait to spring all that on him, unless that's what he's looking for right away. She had no reference for how this was supposed to go.

He looked relieved when she answered, when she said that she would do it. He didn't doubt her, but it was a request that he knew would be emotional for the both of them, and really, he couldn't imagine just how intense it actually would be.

In the bathroom, he watched her as she gathered his shaving cream, razors, electric clippers and towels. His eyes then followed her fingers to the tap, playing with both the hot and cold knobs, letting the water run over her hands as she checked the temperature. "I'm going to buzz your hair first, then finish in the shower," she told him as she motioned for him to come towards her. She breathed deeply, trying to sound confident, but it was all she could do not to shake.

Kate sat on the vanity next to the sink, everything set to the side except for the clippers. She had dragged a stool in from the kitchen, and it sat off to the side as she first pulled him towards her, wrapping a towel around his neck and then securing it with a hair clip she had been holding in her teeth. She looked up at him, patting his chest with her hands, and smiled. She leaned in to kiss him, and felt him breathe heavy beneath her before he responded, his tongue quickly breaking through and into her mouth.

They kissed for what felt like hours, and by the time they actually pulled away from one another, his towel had come loose, and was lying at his feet in a pile. Rick pulled her to him and hugged her tightly, her hands running across his back and arms, warming up the chills she felt on his bare skin.

"I love you," he whispered as his arms were wrapped possessively and entirely around her neck and shoulders. His voice was soft but intense, with a desire to be _heard_.

"I love you, too." Kate responded, her head resting against his chest. "So much." She stressed, kissing his upper chest, his clavicle, the hollow of his throat.

"Let's get this over with," he said, and she nodded, hopping down from the counter to pick up his lost towel, before sitting back down and wrapping him in the towel once more. She turned him so that his back faced her chest as he stood in between her legs. She picked up the clippers, snapping the shortest blade guard on to provide the closest cut so that she could finish the job with a regular razor in the shower.

Holding the clippers in her hand, she gave herself a silent countdown, then hesitated several times, unable to move the switch. She leaned her head against his back, feeling him move towards her before turning around to face her. He took the clippers from her hands, despite her protests, her hands reaching for them. Putting them back on the counter, he moved into her, her arms wrapping around his neck as his landed near her tailbone, pulling her butt up and off the tile as she tied her legs around his waist.

Kate kissed his jaw line as hot tears rolled down her face, her eyes squeezed shut tightly, but not adequately enough to stop the warm, wet cascade down her cheeks. Pulling his head back a bit, he kissed the wet trail that started at her eye, then walked with her attached to him out of the bathroom and into his bedroom.

As they lay facing one another, their foreheads touching, she closed her eyes as he gently wiped the tears from her cheeks. Her breath rolled in her throat, caught between slowing sobs. He held her face tightly in his hands, trying to connect closely enough to replace the pain he could hear in her voice and see in the furrowed lines on her forehead and between her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said, even though they were mutually trying to eliminate those words from their vocabulary. He didn't mention it, however, because he knew there were times when they both needed it, when it was legitimate and honest. He wouldn't take it from her tonight, because he felt the words at the edge of his lips as well.

He was sorry that he would ever have to put her in the position to do this. He was sorry that he had to share his love for her with the reality of his illness and every heartbreaking piece that came with it. The most hopeful parts of him looked forward to a place, so much sooner rather than later, where they could look back, remember these dark times, and be grateful for how strong their love had become, how much they had grown together. He couldn't wait for it, and he wouldn't allow himself to imagine anything less for them, but he also wouldn't let the strength of what they felt now to be tainted by how scared and unsure they were.

As her breath evened out, and the tears stopped falling, she pushed herself up, her hands steadying her against his chest. She looked down at him lovingly, his face leaning into her touch as she stroked his face, first with her thumb, and then with her entire hand, cupping the warm, soft skin of his cheek. She kissed him intently, holding her face so close to his, needing the proximity at least as much as he did. When she finally pulled away, she kept her face focused, their breath nearly fusing them together as she kissed her way across his face, stopping at his forehead before finally moving further back.

"Ready?" she whispered, her voice as steady as she could manage, the result of trying with everything inside her over the last ten minutes, whispering mantras to herself while silently asking for courage. She allowed herself to picture them in two years or five or ten, still smiling, still staring. In her mind, their eyes broke from one another in response to the raucous noise of a pair of toddlers running clumsily towards them, cheeks red and mouths wide with laughter. In her mind, Castle carried them on his shoulders and bench pressed them. He spun with them to make them dizzy and giddy, shouting "More! More! Again!" as their Daddy made them fly.

Castle was going to be an amazing father. He already was, having raised a girl that Kate thought represented the best that she had seen in people. Alexis didn't always remind Kate of Rick, but when it came down to it, she was her father's daughter. All the good, the love, the loyalty- those all came from Rick Castle.

He was _always _there when Kate pictured the future. It was _their _future, and she couldn't even envision it without him present. He would be there. He would raise their children, hands-on, just like he did with Alexis. He would get up for feedings or to change diapers in the middle of the night, not thinking for a second that it was Kate's job by default. She would turn her ear toward the speaker on the baby monitor, hearing Rick talk to their baby, or sometimes even sing. It made Kate's heart swoon every time she snapped out of such a daydream, a snapshot of their future. It was all hypothetical, one of a thousand ways things could go, but what she was sure of was that he would be there. They would get through this, and he would be there for all of it.

Rick nodded his head, sitting up when she asked him if he was ready. He placed a soft kiss against her pliant lips, holding her tight with both hands, warm tears falling from both their eyes and merging on their cheeks. Kate swung her feet off the mattress, pushing herself up onto shaky legs, steadying herself on the nightstand for a moment before reaching her hand towards him. He didn't say anything about the way she swayed, just looked at her with concern, biting his tongue before standing in front of her, pulling her to him in an embrace that made things so much closer to "better".

Kate sat on the vanity again as Rick took his place across from her, his hands resting gently on her thighs. She leaned forward to kiss him, long and slow, before placing her hands on his shoulders.

"Turn around," she said softly, guiding him with her hands until he faced the wall. She pushed down on his shoulders while pulling him back towards her until he was sitting on the stool, between her thighs. She could see down on him now, could reach him in spite of their height difference while still maintaining the intimacy they both surely wanted, but that she _needed_.

"Ready?" she asked for the second time, as much for herself as for him. No, she wasn't ready. Not even close. Rick nodded his head, his forehead bobbing away from her. Kate planted a kiss between his shoulder blades, feeling him shiver as he unconsciously leaned back, further against her. When Kate picked up the electric clippers, she was surprised by their weight in her hand. She ran her fingers along the blade, snapping the plastic guard in place.

When she flipped the switch on the side of the clippers, she was startled by the sharp vibration of them in her hands, and the loud, deep buzzing sound they made. She looked up at his head, hair chocolate brown and thick, feeling mournful and then closing her eyes, thinking to herself _"It's just hair". _As her eyes travelled down to her shoulders, she could see sprinklings of that hair, dead and decaying, no longer the soft locks she would grab from behind, pulling him to her lips.

Rick waited patiently, apprehensive but hurting for her, because he could _feel _how difficult this was for her. She would never back out, though, that he was sure of. He just had to give her the time she needed. He smiled and sighed when he felt her lips on his ear, down the side of his neck and across his right shoulder, resting her head on the ledge of his arm.

Finally, she picked her head up, then quickly adjusted herself as she sat on the counter. She straightened him with a hand to the side of his head before remembering with a jolt that she wasn't playing barber, so neatness wouldn't count with this haircut. Looking at the buzzing machine, she felt like this was one of the hardest things she had ever had to do, and she wasn't exactly sure why.

Kate touched the clippers to the back of his neck, where his hair came to two short points. Positioning the blade guard flat against his skin, she slowly moved it upward, a long, square line of scalp appearing on the back of his head. As dark tufts of hair fell, both of them watched as they floated to the floor, landing by the legs of his stool. Looking at the strip she just made, she breathed deeply, resisting the urge to touch the skin normally hidden there.

The job went quickly after the initial few strips, which were random and uneven. Tilting his head as needed, she finished the majority of his head before jumping down from the counter and moving to stand in front of him, seeing him without his hair for the first time. She smiled at him, kissing him quickly on the lips before finishing the last few spots at the front of his head. For everything that was different, so much more was exactly the same. It was still him, it was still Castle.

Kate put the clippers back down on the vanity, picking up two disposable razors and shaving cream, tucking the items against her body with her elbow so she had a free hand to reach out for Castle's. Cracking her neck as she straightened out from sitting on the hard counter, she led them to the shower. She let go of his hand, letting it fall by his side as she put the put the shaving cream and razors on one of the shower's built-in shelves.

She reached for his boxer shorts, pulling them down with her thumbs hooked in the waistband, kicking his shins playfully so he would step out of the shorts. She stood up in front of him again, tipping his hanging chin upward before rising onto her toes so she could kiss him, long and sweet rather than passionate and fervent. When they pulled apart, their eyes were drawn to one another, maintaining contact as Castle reached for the buttons on her baby blue shirt, pulling it off her arms and into the growing pile of clothes outside of the shower. He removed every stitch of clothing from her body, all the way down to the watch that was a near-permanent fixture on her wrist.

Rick reached for the shower knob, turning it to warm setting that they quickly adjusted to. As their bodies shared the space with the water that cascaded down and across their skin, she reached for the back of his neck, pulling his forehead to hers. She could feel the sharp spikes of the short hair the clippers left behind. She could feel the uneven length, short tufts of hair in some places, buzzed, nearly bald in others. She moved her mouth up to his, engaging him in a deep, slow kiss before pulling back, picking up the shaving cream and turning his head away from the water as she covered him liberally in the white foam, her fingers massaging him as they roamed across his head.

Holding one side of his head in her palm, she ran the dry razor in a line down the other side, feeling the scratchy shear through the handle of the razor. She made a note to keep her movements slow and deliberate, to pay attention not to cut him. This method wasn't quite as foolproof as the electric clippers had been, so she was careful. He watched her through hooded lids obscured by drops of water caught in his eyelashes. He blinked them away every few seconds to continue to take in her naked form as she concentrated on him. She wore her focus on her face, her teeth biting the tip of her tongue and her lithe form rising on her toes to get a better look at her workspace, which just happened to be six inches taller than her. She kept working, though, holding herself together through the commitment to the task.

As she moved around to the back of him, she anchored herself with a hand on his shoulder. Carefully shaving the remaining areas, she walked him backwards towards the shower head, tipping his head backwards into the spray. She watched as the tiny hairs left over washed into the water at their feet before swirling at the drain, disappearing. Still holding the razor in her hand, she looked closely, making sure she had gotten everything, completely and evenly. She worked her way around him, checking the sides next, turning his head to get the best look at both sides.

She deliberately made her way to his face last, cupping his cheek in her hand and looking into his widened pupils, smiling at him softly before placing a kiss at his jaw line. Moving her hand to the back of his head, she was shocked at first by the sharp feel of the tiny needles of hair that remained. She pulled his head down towards her, checking the top of his head, his tallest spot, to make sure she hadn't missed anything. As she slowly worked her hand back to his face, her fingers tickling behind his ear, she looked at him closely for the first time. It was startling in as far as how drastic the change was, but it was still him. His face was just as beautiful and his eyes shone just as bright. She smiled at him, wearing her love for him in the curve of her lips, and she huffed out a desperate sigh as she leaned into him, taking him off balance for a moment before his arms wrapped around her, their bodies connecting under the burst of warm water.

"Thank you," he said quietly, his lips against her head. She felt his words as much as heard them, muted by the rush of water falling around them and among them.

"You're welcome," she responded, leaning up to meet his lips.

"How do I look?" he asked hesitantly, looping his hands together at the small of her back, feeling the water running over them as they shared the storm.

"Distinguished," Kate said with a smile. "You look like Patrick Stewart."

"Captain Picard? No way!" he said excitedly, touching his bare head for the first time. "Feels weird," he said.

"Yeah, it will probably take some getting used to," Kate responded. It would take time for both of them.

As he turned the shower off and took her hand to help her out and off the slippery floor of the shower. She grabbed his wrist as he made his way to the mirror, naked as the day he was born. As he turned to face her, she toweled him off, starting at his head and working her way down. He then took the towel from her and did the same, drying her hair, down her back and arms, then getting on his knees to thoroughly dry her legs. He looked up at her when he was finished, smiling and reaching for her to help him up. Once standing, he threw the huge towel around his shoulders like a cape, then pulled Kate to him, wrapping it around them both.

The stark white of the towel contrasted with their skin as they held each other, looking together into the mirror. "I look like a bad ass," he said, his fingers touching the newly revealed skin again. "I look like Vin Diesel!"

Kate laughed, giving him a playful shove against his chest. "Way more attractive than Vin Diesel," she said.

"Or maybe it's more like Britney Spears when she went nuts and shaved all her hair off? Britney Shears? No?"

Kate shook her head, her eyes shutting. "Definitely not, Rick. Not even funny. And '_Britney Shears_'? Have you been waiting five years to be able to make that joke?"

He nodded, "Absolutely."

She loved that he could joke now, that he could hold _her_ up with his own resilience. She watched him as he looked in the mirror, her chin nearly resting on his shoulder as they remained bundled up in his luxuriously soft towel. He turned his head to see himself from different angles, as nonchalant as if he were checking for missed spots above his lip or around his mouth and chin, as if he were just looking for his beard's five-o-clock shadow.

"Are you okay?" Kate asked, tightening her hold around his waist.

He nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay," she said reassuringly, kissing her softly on the cheek. "I mean, it's weird. I'm going to have to get used to it, but it's not as shocking as I imagined. I can always wear hats, I guess. At least while I'm getting used to it," he said with a shrug.

"Are _you _okay?" he asked her, turning towards her in the tight covering of the towel, standing face to face.

"I'm okay if you are," she said as she leaned her head against his chest. As he ran his fingers through her still-wet hair, she slid her hands up his chest and around his neck, splaying her fingers across the back of his head. He was right, it was different. It felt different, but the change wasn't nearly as frightening as she imagined. _It was still him. It will always be him._

They had moved to the bedroom, shuffling together, laughing at their clumsiness as they navigated while wearing the shared towel. It felt like a strait-jacket, their progress restricted by the tightness of the fabric, taut from the pressure of two bodies.

As they collapsed into bed together, shifting towards the middle of the mattress, the towel loosened around them, exposing their still-drying skin to the mild chill of the ambient temperature. Reaching under the towel then pushing it aside, he felt her shiver when his hand made contact with her skin. He stilled his fingers briefly, allowing his hand to warm up and her body to adjust to the temperature surrounding them. As her breath became shallow, and she panted softly at the feel of his skin against hers, she covered his hand with hers, encouraging him to move, to touch her.

He slowly traced and caressed her abdomen and her sides, feeling her physical response as she twitched against him. His hand moved unhurried, leisurely massaging her skin as he felt the slight arch of her back, and he smiled when he looked up at her face. Her eyes were shut tight and her bottom lip was between her teeth. It was perfect, and one of his favorite sights. All the evidence of what he did to her was right in front of him. Watching her like this, there could be no doubt.

Fitting in between her thighs as he rolled on top of her, he moved his hands to grip her sides, his mouth replacing his fingers on her skin. Kate gasped as she felt his tongue laving across her neck, slowly kissing his way down her body, stopping at each breast, grasping and kneading one while making love with his mouth to the other. He smiled against her skin as she moaned, her thighs and bottom lifting off the mattress against him, eliciting a deep sigh of his own.

"Kate," he exhaled as he moved down to her abdomen, sliding his mouth teasingly over her sensitized skin. As his hands moved higher, wrapping around her ribs, she reached for his hand, lacing their fingers together and squeezing in response to the movements of his hand and mouth. She could feel her heart pound in her chest as he travelled further south, teasing at her thighs and the lowest part of her belly. He grew hard as she squirmed against him, and he concentrated on keeping his arousal. As long as she kept moving like that, and making the noises that filled their air like a symphony, he should be just fine. God, he hoped so.

As his mouth engulfed her core, she shook against him, her skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Her body wracked back and forth, losing control in the primal way that only he knew. He did that to her. He broke her apart before holding her tightly, pulling her back together again.

Kate reached for his head, the unfamiliar feel of it only entering her consciousness for a moment. It didn't matter, and he didn't make love to her any differently without a head of hair. "Stop, Castle," she gasped, her hand pulling him up by the grip the dipped where his neck met the base of his head. "I want you," she practically begged. "Can you? Are you okay?" she asked as he lay in between her again, smiling as their mouths met again.

She reached in between them, taking him in her hands. Stroking his arousal and teasing them both by bringing him so close to her entrance, his tip sliding against her.

He had burrowed his head into the crook of her neck as she touched him, concentrating on holding it together. "Kate, I'm not going to last long," he breathed.

"Its okay, Rick," she said as she gingerly touched his face. "I won't either," she reassured him, her eyes gleaming as she lifted her hips, allowing him to glide inside of her. They lay perfectly still for several moments, connected in the most intimate of ways. The feeling was indescribable, especially when coupled with the overwhelming emotion they shared as they gazed into each other's soul.

Kate moved first, setting a slow, but intense rhythm, pulling him closer by wrapping her legs around his back. His arms slid under her back and over her shoulders, bracketing them closer still, their faces nearly touching. Her mouth hung open a bit as she stared at him, into him. As she dug her nails into the skin of his shoulder, he bucked involuntarily, the sensation feeling like electrical pulses from her fingertips, spreading throughout his body.

Rick's head dropped forward against her shoulder, the feelings so intense that he couldn't hold it up, the muscles of his neck effectively giving out. When her mouth engulfed his earlobe, then moved down to cover the rest of his neck with kisses and strokes of her tongue, he groaned low in his throat, practically inaudible. He could feel the perfect flow of energy and tightness in his belly, and he knew he was so incredibly close. He slowed down his strokes as he heard he begin to whine, falling apart in his arms, all around him. She gripped into him tightly, and he could feel her pulsate around him as she let go completely, his name a mixture of compressed syllables as it rolled off her tongue.

As she collapsed against the mattress, sated and satisfied, he kissed her softly as he began moving inside her again, immediately feeling the tightness in his lower body return. She lifted herself up to meet him, to help him along as she took him as deep as possible. With his head in the crook of her neck, surrounded by the wet heat coming off her skin, he pumped into her again, his release beginning as he began to pull out, then continuing as he pushed back in completely, one more time. He saw stars in front of his eyes, and there was nothing but her as he felt the erratic pulse of his climax and the feeling of her fingers drawing circles across his lower back.

They slowly turned onto their sides as their breath returned, lying in each other's arms as the long discarded towel lay twisted, hanging off the side of the bed. They kissed slowly and languidly, reflecting how exhausted they were from everything the day had brought, and from the unexpected gift the night had ended with. As they dozed together, their lips still touching, Kate grabbed the comforter with her foot, pulling it up to cover them. Barely had it been in place, their bodies settling together underneath it, before they both drifted off together.

* * *

Rick tapped his keyboard, the clacking sound distracting him from the increasingly demanding e-mails from Black Pawn that had flooded his inbox. He hadn't opened a single one, as he already knew what they contained. He could imagine Paula's conversational inquiries turning into threatening diatribes as the days passed and she grew more impatient.

He clicked on the most recent message, cringing as the window expanded. "I can only have your back for so long, Rick," the e-mail read. "I need fifty pages from the newest Nikki, and I needed them _yesterday_!" She actually took the time to italicize the word "yesterday", as if to translate the text into a louder shout. Phrases like "breach of contract", "potential lawsuit" and "I'll hang you by your balls on the nearest tree if I don't hear back from you" jumped off the page.

Rick hit the "reply" button, hesitating for a moment before typing, quick and frenzied. "Paula," he began, "I've barely got fifty _words _for you, let alone pages. I've got cancer. I'll be in touch." It was a short response, and he knew it would be a shocking one, but it was all he had. He didn't have enough in him to give to Nikki Heat and Rook Jameson now. They would be shallow, paper-thin versions of what he knew Nikki Heat could be. She wouldn't exist without Kate, so he would not write her if he could not do her justice. Right now, he couldn't.

How could he be concerned about the fate of two fictional characters when he wasn't even sure about his own? Should Paula push it, really pursue legal action, he would have to deal with that. He would cross that bridge when he came to it, but for this day, all he had in him was one line with no answers and little explanation. That would have to do. It would have to be enough.

After closing out his e-mail, he laid his head back against his office chair, closing his eyes as he reached to run his hand through his hair. He was instantly shocked and quickly reminded of the smooth, bald head he now sported. His health was now something that everybody in the world could see. It was as if he was wearing a sandwich board with "I have cancer" written on it in big block letters. Everywhere he went, he was defined by his disease. Whether it was a double-take or a sympathetic shake of the head or an unsolicited smile, the whole world knew. As his fingers traced this new, never before exposed part of his skin, he tried to accept it, to get to know it. All it did, however, was bring his insecurities and fears to the forefront every single time he looked in the mirror.

As he stood up from his desk, pushing his chair out from behind him, he reached for the Yankees' skull cap that Kate had left for him, pulling it over his head. Rick walked into the bathroom, leaning against the sink as he lifted his head to look in the mirror. It wasn't a bad look, necessarily. It was youthful, and maybe even a bit macho, and definitely rugged. It was also the middle of summer, though, and he imagined himself looking foolish while walking through the steaming, stifling streets.

As he rubbed his eyes with his thumb and pointer finger, his cell phone rang. He hoped that it was Kate, but was not at all surprised to see Paula's name pop up on the screen. Two minutes after he sent his reply, she had speed dialed his number. Did she _ever _get away from her computer? He sent the call to voicemail, sliding her name away with a swipe of his finger. He had already told her everything he had to say. It was three short sentences, but it had said it all.

He would have to take care of this. He would have to address it. It was his job, and deadlines were no joke to publishers. Paula might be able to buy him some time due to extenuating circumstances, but he would have to actually_ talk_ to her first, which was something he just wasn't ready to do.

Rick looked up as he heard the lock turning on the front door, and smiled when Alexis' walked inside. He hadn't seen nearly enough of her during this last summer before she moved out of the loft and into her dorm at Columbia. His cancer and his still new relationship with Kate coupled with her own feelings about it all had kept her away from the loft most of the time.

"What's with the hat, Dad?" Alexis asked cheerfully.

Shit. He hadn't told her. He hadn't prepared his daughter or warned her or done any of the things he suddenly realizes he should have done in this situation. He was an idiot.

"Lex," he begins, his voice wavering as he hears her shortened name leave his lips. It reminded him of when she was a little girl, unable to say her full name once she started speaking, the syllables tripping over each other. He started calling her "Lex" naturally, like a nickname or a term of endearment, laughing when her tiny, high pitched voice could only manage to say "Yex", which eventually developed into something that sounded more like "I-yex-us". God, he missed when he was all she needed, when he could hoist her up onto his shoulders, effectively protecting her from anything that could possibly hurt her.

"Dad?" she said, concern in her voice, pulling him from his time-travelling reverie. "What is up with you?" she asked as she walked towards him, dropping her bag on the coffee table.

He inhaled deeply as she moved closer to him, her face painted with concern. Before he could form the words to explain his equally simple yet complicated situation to her, she shuffled quickly towards him, reaching for the hat on his head.

Rick heard her gasp as she looked at her father, shocked at the sight of his smooth, bald head. Looking down at her hands, she gripped the soft winter hat tightly before raising her eyes up to meet his again. She knew _why_, as she had thought about it several times since she first learned that her Dad had cancer. She knew it was a common side effect of chemotherapy, one that many patients experience, but every time she let her mind go there, she shook it away just as quickly. This was her _Dad_.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, her voice taking on a desperate tone. "Why didn't you let me be there?"

"I'm so sorry, Alexis," he began, reaching for her arms as they hung at her sides. When she backed away from him, he felt his heart crack in his chest. "Alexis, please." He repeated her name softly as he helplessly watched streams of tears fall down her cheeks. He reached for her hands again, taking a risk that she would pull even further away from him. Slowly, he took her hands in his, pulling the hat that was twisted in her fingers and placing it on the counter. She didn't look at him, but she leaned into him, allowing him to wrap his arms around her. He was relieved, but also devastated at the pain he had caused his little girl, and there was not a goddamn thing he could do about it.

He rocked her gently as he cradled her head in his right hand, the left around her shoulders. She slowly moved her arms from their position at her sides, lifting them to wrap around his waist in a tight, despondent bear hug.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he whispered in her ear. "I… I didn't think. I should have thought of you, considered your feelings." He paused, reaching for her face and pulling her forehead to his lips. "It was time, Lex. I was leaving trails of hair behind me, and I can't be a super secret ninja with that type of giveaway."

Her laugh took tons off his shoulders. It made him feel like he could breathe for the first time since this awful encounter had begun. He had taken a chance, making a joke, but it had worked. Maybe it made things easier for him, but he was still so much more concerned with Alexis, with how she felt.

She looked up at him, her eyes still red but the tears had stopped falling. She reached up to him, and he dipped his head a bit as the soft tips of her fingers touched his face where his sideburns used to be. "How does it feel?" Alexis asked.

Rick wasn't sure what she meant. Physically? It felt… different. He noticed how much cooler he felt without the thick blanket of brown that he was used to, like having built in air-conditioning.

"Not nearly as weird as I thought it would, but it's an adjustment," he said, honestly.

"Are you just going to wear winter hats all summer, Dad?" she asked as she picked the Yankees hat off the counter.

He laughed quietly. It was a ridiculous summertime accessory. "I hadn't really thought about it, sweetheart. Kate found some men's style hats meant for chemo patients that aren't too bad, and I've got a couple of baseball caps. I just grabbed this one since I hadn't really planned on leaving the house."

"It's not that different," Alexis said as she reached to touch his head for the first time, hesitating in her movement. "I mean, it's different, but it's not bad. You don't look 'bald', necessarily. More like a guy who just decided to shave his head. It's not a look I ever imagined on you, but it could be worse. At least you know you can pull it off," she said, her eyes moving from his head to his eyes and back again.

Castle was relieved. He had been worked up by the messages from Black Pawn, and was scared to death when Alexis reached to pull his hat off his head, but she had surprised him. She had dealt with her feelings of fear and resentment and anger quickly, instead offering support and understanding. She was truly growing up before his eyes, and god, how he wished he could slow down the passage of time.

He pulled his daughter into a body crushing hug, so grateful for her, his little girl. "Thank you, Alexis, for taking this so well," he said, smiling at her as they pulled away from each other. "Dad, I just want you to be okay. I don't care if you don't have hair. _I just want you to be okay_," she said again.

"I promise I will be okay, Pumpkin," he said, not sure if he could make such a promise. Not sure if he could keep it, but he would try with everything he had in him to remain true to his words. He would do everything he could for Alexis, for Kate, for Martha, and for himself. His life was far too amazing, too beautiful to give up without the fight of his life.

Alexis smiled as tears stung the corners of her eyes. She reached for his head again, this time with less trepidation, moving her hands back and forth as if his soft, brown hair were still in place, mussed from the shuffle of her hands. "Do you like it?" she asked, her voice just above a whisper.

He shook his head. "No. No, I wouldn't say that I like it, but it's not as bad as I thought. It'll grow back," he said, reassuringly, taking as much of the advice for himself as he gave away to his daughter.

"_It'll grow back_," she echoed, standing on tip-toes to get a closer look. "You look like Bruce Willis, Dad," Alexis said. "Yeah, you can definitely pull off this look."

Rick grabbed his daughter's hand, gripping it tightly while swinging it between them. "Thank you, Lex. Thank you for being okay with this. And just so you know, I thought it was more of a Vin Diesel look, but I'll take whatever I can get," he said, kissing his daughter on the cheek, then watching her as she skipped up the stairs, two at a time. He kept watching even as she disappeared around the corner, her door audibly closing behind her. He sighed, relieved as he headed back towards his office, walking away from the kitchen and leaving the Yankees hat behind.

* * *

There were some days when chemotherapy was a breeze, and it felt like such an unexpected gift to have slept through most of the process, Kate's tiny body tucked around him, their collective mass filling the wide, cozy chair. To wake together only when a nurse rolled in to remove his I.V., rather than from the impending rolls in his belly that promised nausea to come.

In fact, as the two sleepily roused together, he realized that he felt none of the immediate side effects he was used to, although he knew better than to hope, not wanting to let his guard down at the prospect of what might come later.

When 'later' came, two hours after his session, he hid just outside the kitchen as Alexis, unsuspecting, made a sandwich. Just as she turned to put the condiments back in the fridge, Castle jumped into view, lunging towards her as he growled loudly. Alexis shrieked, scared by the shock more than anything, surprised she hadn't dropped the mayo on the floor.

Four hours later, Kate rest against his chest as they watched _Braveheart _together. "It's such a shame that Mel Gibson turned out to be such a nut job, because the guy is a genius," Rick said as part of his running commentary.

As the film ended, Kate watched his fingers as they tapped nervously on her thigh. "What's wrong, Castle?" she asked, looking up at his face, wondering if she was imagining how pale he looked to her.

He closed his eyes tight, his fingers tightening on her leg. "Just my stomach," he murmured, and as she gently touched her hand to his forehead she could feel the sweat that always accompanied the nausea he was holding back.

Kate stood up, then knelt beside where he sat on the couch. "Will you make it to the bathroom?" she asked gently, her fingers stroking his hand. He nodded, grasping her hand from his leg and twining it with his own. She stood again, pulling him to his feet and leading him slowly towards his bathroom, looking back every few steps to check on him. "You still with me, Rick?" she asked, and took his squeeze of her hand as an affirmative answer.

Kate rubbed his neck, his head, his shoulders as he wretched, emptying his already nearly vacant stomach into the toilet. His entire body wracked as he struggled through the nausea, and Kate moved closer to him as his fight became harder, her body pressed to his back, wrapped around him.

After an unexpected bout of particularly severe nausea, Kate nursed him from their bedroom to the bathroom, whispering soothing words into his ear until he leaned back hard against the bathtub, finally able to breathe again. She watched him as he gathered himself again, looking like a little boy wrapped around himself in just his boxers on the bathroom floor. When he stood, finally, he opened the door to the shower, shamelessly pulling his boxers down and off before stepping into the quickly warming deluge falling from the shower head.

As he showered, Kate went to his chest of drawers, pulling a pair of Nintendo pajama pants and a t-shirt before changing into a similar outfit herself, pulled from the same drawer. She loved wearing his clothes, especially his soft t-shirts and boxers. She couldn't quite figure out what made his clothes feel so much more comfortable and velvety than hers, other than the factual knowledge that they were _his_, that _he _had worn them.

After his quick shower, he brushed his teeth, cleaning the acidic taste of his sickness from his mouth, smiling as he noticed the folded pajamas on the vanity next to his side of the sink. He dressed quickly before returning to the bedroom, met by a warm smile from Kate as she sat cross legged on the bed. She was rolling a joint from the pot supply that had made its way to his bedside drawer. As she finished the job, she returned the baggie and papers to the table and moved over so that he could join her on the soft mattress.

Castle sat with his back against the headboard, his arms wrapped around her midsection as she leaned against him, her body framed by his legs next to hers. Grabbing the lighter from the spot next to them, he watched as Kate brought the flame towards the end of the joint, held expertly between her lips. As she blew out a thick plume of smoke, he followed the trail with his eyes as it rose to coat his ceiling.

Together, they had decided that smoking pot had been highly effective for him, but that they would not take advantage of that fact by turning into Cheech and Chong. Dr. Stanley had all but recommended it, and Rick couldn't deny how helpful and successful the last few times they tried it had been, however, and Kate loved seeing him appear at one hundred percent, even for a few hours. Most importantly, he decided that he wasn't going to allow himself to feel guilty for it. He couldn't really figure out why he had been so against it in the first place.

"If you could go anywhere in the world, absolutely anywhere, where would you go?" Rick asked as he ran his fingers ran up and down her bare arms, smiling when he hit a sensitive spot, eliciting a shiver in response.

"Um, Paris, for sure. Rome, definitely. I've always wanted to see the Sistine Chapel and the Colosseum. I'd like to go back to Russia, see old friends. It's such a beautiful, old country, too," Kate said, catching herself rambling about the places she loved and the others she one day hoped to.

"I'll take you to all of them," Rick said, his lips against the nape of her neck. "I'll take you everywhere," he promised, passing the joint to her over her shoulders.

Kate inhaled, then turned in his arms, taking his chin in her hands and placing a sweet, chaste kiss on his mouth. "What's with all the vacation talk, Castle?" she asked.

"Just thinking," he said as he shrugged, dropping the cigarette onto the glass tray on the night table, pulling her closer so that their chests were touching, rising together with each breath. "Like a goal, I guess," Castle continued. "For that day when we go for my scans and Dr. Stanley tells us that my tumors have shrunk, or that I'm in remission. Whenever that is, I want you to celebrate with me," he said softly, reverently.

Kate slid her body against his, wrapping her arms around his neck, then shifting her legs so that she now straddled him, sitting atop his upper thighs. She smiled, big and broad and white, gleaming from her pearly teeth as she kissed him, playful and passionate at the same time. That smile, her "kissing smile", he liked to call it, was something he had only discovered in the short time they had been together, and he knew it was just for him. It made her viscerally _happy _when they kissed, so much so that she couldn't hold that captivating smile back, and it blew his mind that she loved him _that much_.

"You don't have to take me on a whirlwind vacation to celebrate, you know," she said as she slid back and anchored her foot behind his knee, using her leg as leverage to encourage him to shuffle down, lying completely on his back. She pushed herself down to him on the strength of her arms alone, and he watched as her biceps puffed and twitched at the strain. When she burrowed her face into his neck, kissing the warm skin as she made her way to his jaw, he pulled her to him completely, in love with the feeling of her marginal weight against him.

As she propped her chin on his chest to see his face, she felt him reaching for her free hand, and parted her fingers so that they could lace them together. "Castle," she said, looking at their joined hands as she pulled them onto his chest, next to her face. "When that day comes- and it's a 'when', not an 'if', then I can't imagine a more appropriate celebration than just being together. You can invite the most important people in your life, and then you'll spend the rest of the evening with me, enjoying our own commemorative event," she said as she dotted his face with kisses.

"I'm fine with a gathering of family and friends," he said, nearly each word distracted by her hands across his chest. "I just want you, though," he murmured, his voice turned small and fragile.

"You've got me, Rick," she said, stilling her hands and resting them, tight and secure against the plane of his chest. "I'll be anywhere you need me to be, always."

When a crystalline tear rolled down his cheek, she watched as it skipped over his chin, disappearing, soaking into a small dark spot on his bed sheets.

Kate pulled him closer still, closing even the smallest gaps between their bodies as she hung her face above his again, smiling as she ran her thumb underneath his eyes, then stroked his cheek to intercept the tears as they fell.

His eyes had shifted, humiliated, looking directly up at the ceiling as he tried to engage the muscles behind his eyes, willing the tears to stop falling before he finally allowed their gazes to connect again.

"I don't want you and my mother and Alexis to have to plan my funeral," he said, his words sending a shockwave from her head to her toes. They had only ever spoken about this in the most general of terms, but he had never come right out and acknowledged his fear regarding his mortality, and she hadn't either. She hadn't even allowed herself to venture there in her mind, and now she felt like a coward for it.

"Rick-" she began, desperately wanting him to stop.

"No, Kate," he said as he gently grabbed her wrist, effectively quieting her words. "I have to say this. I have a will, which I've recently changed. It's in the lockbox in my bottom desk drawer, and there is a copy in a safe deposit box at New Amsterdam. I've made you the executor of my will, Kate. All the important stuff has been taken care of and-"

"The "_important stuff", _Rick? You are legitimately telling me that the "important stuff" has been taken care of? God, you can be so self-centered sometimes." She put a single finger up as he opened his mouth to speak again. "Don't you dare interrupt me now, Castle. I don't want anything to do with this. This is fucked up, Castle. How can you go from talking about dream vacations to '_the important stuff has been taken care of?_' I mean, Castle what do you-"

This time, it is his voice, shouting her name that cuts _her_ off. It's louder that she expected, and she jumps a bit at the sound of it. He quiets, looking at her, concerned as he sees just how taken aback she is. He saw that she was startled by his voice. He never, ever, even in their most heated arguments did he want her to _fear _him.

"Kate," he said, his voice quieter and pleading. "I _need _this. I need to know that my family is going to be taken care of, and I need the people most important to me to know what I want for my daughter and for my mother. And for you."

"Rick, please," she whispers. Her face is twisted with the sting of what he is asking of her. "Please, stop," she sobs as the sounds in the room, his voice echo around her. She's spinning, and suddenly nothing is safe. As she curls in on herself, her breath hitches in her throat as tries to breathe and scream at the same time.

It had hit her like a ton of bricks. A panic attack brought on with no warning, consuming so much of her that she couldn't speak, even as he screamed her name.

Castle had seen her nightmares, her anxiety, but a lot of the symptoms of her PTSD she had kept hidden from him, from everyone, and this was an entirely different situation altogether. As she sobbed and screamed for her life and his, she had pushed him away as he had tried to hold her, tried to call her back to him. He debated taking her to a hospital, feeling utterly helpless, not knowing what the right answer was.

As her hand shot out to her hip, he grabbed it, whispering her name again and again as he moved closer to her, moving his fingers further up her arm as he held on, until he realized, mortified, that she had been reaching for her gun. Whatever was happening to her, whatever was playing on repeat in her head had her so scared that she had gone for her gun, even as she lie horizontal in cotton pajamas, no shoes, and certainly no gun. "I'm so sorry, Kate," he whispered, covering her body with his. He kept his voice in her ear, repeating her name and apologizing and telling her how much he loved her until the moment he felt her body let go, the tension release and finally, finally, she let go of the breath she had been holding as she had panted like a soldier in survival mode.

He had never seen anything like it. He couldn't imagine, even with the mental images he had gotten from the stories she had shared with him late at night, under the cover of darkness, that _that _was what she went through. She had told him that a lot of the bad ones she didn't even have complete memories of, and he took that to be a small favor if it turned out to be true.

As he whispered "I'm sorry" in her ear, his head ached at the pain he had caused. How could he have been so stupid? He had thought it through from his perspective, completely missing the likelihood, or even the _possibility _that with all the death and darkness she had seen and felt in her life, and the effect it had had on her mental health, that she _might _have had a bit of a problem talking about death. _His _death. He was an idiot.

He knew she was awake, with him, back, whatever the right term was. He could tell by the cadence of her breathing and the shudder in her chest, filled with the conscious effort not to cry. "Kate," he whispered. "Please. I'm so sorry."

As he felt her turn beneath him, he pushed off of her to give her some space, sitting back on his knees. She came to rest on her back, her knees curled up tight, and he set his body down next to her, close, but trying not to crowd. He felt powerless, not knowing what she needed from him, or if she needed him at all.

"Don't be sorry," she whispered as she curled his t-shirt between her fingers. Her voice was hoarse, and the sound broke his heart. He slid closer to her and reached his arm under her neck to pull her towards him, her pliant body moving willingly.

"When was the last time that happened, Kate?" he asked, still whispering, deliberately for her comfort.

"It's been a while. It doesn't matter, Castle," she said, shaking her head, her eyes still closed tightly. He wondered what kind of nightmare was playing behind those lids. As he held the back of her head in his palm, he dipped his chin, nudging her face up so that he could gently kiss her closed eyes before pulling her to him again.

As the minutes passed, her body loosened, and she stretched her tightly tucked legs out before wrapping them with his, pulling him close on her own terms, breathing relief back into his body. Her grip on his shirt relaxed, her hands instead seeking the heat of his skin, snaking under his shirt and across his torso.

He felt her mile-long eyelashes even through his shirt as she blinked, one function after another returning as she breathed in deeply. Castle finally moved his hand as it lay across her back. He had kept perfectly still until he felt her recover, unsure of what she wanted to feel or how close she wanted to be. He wrote her name and his with the soft tips of his fingers, drew hearts and stars, pulling her closer still as she let go of a trapped sigh, relief riding on the end of her breath.

"I'm sorry," he said again, his voice barely audible, even in the quiet of the darkened bedroom.

'_I'm sorry.' They just couldn't seem to stop saying those words._

"I'm sorry too," she said, tightening the grip she had on his legs with hers, bringing them even closer together.

"Why are you sorry?" he asked, genuinely pained at how hurt she was, at how badly he had screwed things up.

She sighed against him as his hands stilled, then widened to nearly cover her back. "For not being better at this," she said.

"Kate, no," he insisted. "Don't ever be sorry for that, because it isn't true. Not to me. Never."

"I want to be better for you, for us," she said as she tilted her head up to look at him, revealing herself to him instead of hiding. "I want to be able to carry you, the way you do for me. The way you wave the bad and the dark away for me, the way you protect me even when you're the one who is suffering, I want to be able to do that for you, Castle."

He pulled his arms back, awkwardly tugging them from underneath her before taking her cheeks in his hands. He stared at her for a long moment, taking in each precious detail he loved so much. "You are exactly what I need, Kate," he said with conviction in his voice. He had told her all of it before, how much he loved her and needed her, how she was the only one for him and what kept him on solid ground. If she wasn't hearing him, he would tell her for the rest of their lives.

"You breathe life into me," he said intensely as he held her face even tighter, closing the distance between them. "Everything else, we'll figure out together," he promised, his glowing smile bursting with hope.

She nodded against him, kissing him through the thin cotton of his t-shirt, already soaked with her tears. "_Together,_" she repeated, bouncing the most important word he had spoken back to him.

Still holding her face in his hands, he shifted his body down, sliding against hers and only removing his hands when the position was impossible to maintain. He moved until their faces were parallel to one another, surprised when she was the one who closed the distance. Her mouth moved desperately with his, a dance inspired by all the love, fear, pain, grief and promises that surrounded them, that kept them afloat.

As they pulled apart, breathless, she reached for him again, her hands caressing his head and neck before sliding to the face she loved so much, her fingers coming to rest at his chin.

"I just wish you didn't have to see that," she said, fighting the urge to apologize. "I didn't expect it and I can't promise that it won't happen again, Castle. I hate that I can't promise that."

He shook his head, wishing that he could take her doubts away, that he could make her understand. The only tool he had was his words. "Kate, we've both got those parts of us that weigh us down. Baggage, I guess. Especially now, but we can split the weight and we can carry it together. I swear, I've got you, Kate."

"I've got you, too," she sighed as she tunneled into the crook of his neck, where she felt safest in the world.

"We'll do it all together," he whispered, his words tickling her skin and filling her heart. "Your stuff, my stuff, it's all _ours_, Kate. I couldn't do this without you and I would do anything to be able to be there like you've been for me. Look how far we've come. You saved me that day when I found out I was sick, when you took me to the alley. Let me save you, Kate. Let's save one another. Full circle."

There were times when he spoke to her and he felt like he was writing a manuscript. The final draft of something so perfect and so beautiful. A bestseller, for sure. She kissed the warmed skin of his neck before pulling back to see his eyes again. "You've saved me already, Castle," she said with assurance. "You save me every day."

He went quiet, staring at her as his eyes began to shine with a coating of unshed tears. There were times for him when her words were just as valuable.

As he tightened his arms around her, rolling until she was on her back, they found themselves sharing a fit of laughter. Fingers tickled and the rumble of roaring stomachs kept them swimming in their joy, rocking each other until they finally settled again, in a new spot with new thoughts and ideas in their heads, and if it were possible, with more love.

As they silenced and relaxed into a looser grip of each other's arms, Kate's tired, weary voice broke the silence. "Castle, we totally ruined our high," she joked, kissing him on the shoulder as he snickered before closing her eyes just one more time.

END OF CHAPTER 10

Thanks for reading! Reviews, favorites, and follows are so much appreciated. This story WILL continue, I WILL see it through to the end, and I'll keep giving you long chapters. See you in Chapter 11.


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